Consequences of a prepared mind
by Maethoriel Raina
Summary: A small change in Harry's past has knock on effects thoughout his time at Hogwarts. A 'what if' type of story starting with his first year, and the changes that a smart Harry would cause.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

o0O0o

Harry Potter was an unusual child. The continuous downplaying of his abilities and constant hiding from his cousin Dudley and friends pointed to an unhappy home life. With no proof of any mistreatment, no overt signs of abuse and no complaints nothing could be done. But there were unwritten rules among the staff at Dunhill Primary, to help those that couldn't be helped by other means, so a closer than normal watch would be kept on Harry. Certain rules would be bent.

And Harry knew this. He was appreciative of the extra lengths the teachers took to help him. No complaint of his home life ever made it anywhere. He knew this, and the fact that the few complaints that had been made on his behalf disappearing into thin air made him rather grateful of anyone who helped him without his relatives knowing. For the abuse at Privet Drive would only worsen. Generally he was fed well enough and the beatings were relatively minor, it wouldn't do for the Dursleys to lose their slave labour, or to bring any unwanted notice upon their family life.

But if he complained, if any of the teachers took a more than usual interest in him, if his grades were that much higher than Dudley's he would be locked in his cupboard without food and beaten so hard that he had trouble covering the marks left behind. And so there was some sort of unspoken rule with the teachers. For though they tried to help they never could, never could change anything, and such things annoyed the teachers at Dunhill Primary. And so when the 'system' didn't work, they made their own system.

It all started in Year One. Mrs Edna Hill was a nice old lady, a teacher for over twenty years she had seen many young children come and go through her class room. Most were happy, contented children, not yet near the troublesome teenage years and easy enough to handle if one knew how. But every now and then one would catch her eye. Known in the school as 'Hill's Children' she helped them through school as much as she was able, always there to lend a helping hand, no matter which class they were in, no matter how long ago they had moved on. Sometimes it would be trouble at home, or bullying at school, or the loss of a relative, but each one stood out for her. And Mrs Hill prescribed to the practise that teachers were not only responsible for educating the mind of a child but also their spirit. Not in the new age 'wishy washy' way of thinking, but in that by helping to educate the behaviour and thoughts of the children when growing up, that they would become well rounded young adults and a credit to society.

And so when she first met the black haired and green eyed young boy named Harry Potter she knew she had found another one of 'her' children. A well behaved boy, sweet and polite with intelligence not normally seen in his age group. Shy with strangers perhaps, but no more than expected with such a brute of a cousin. The missing homework, the continuously forgotten packed lunches, second hand clothes, numerous bruises. For most people this would not raise too many questions, because what young boy doesn't not do his homework especially one that keeps forgetting his packed lunch, and bruises that along with tattered clothes points to a rather rambunctious young child.

And yet Mrs Hill saw something in young Harry that not many did, she saw through the disguise enforced by his 'normal' loving relatives. She vowed to herself to help as best she could. For Harry Potter was special somehow, for some reason he was important, and the chance of him turning bad would be disastrous for everyone. How she knew this she didn't know, but deep within her something reached out to him, and so from the first week she met him Harry Potter's life changed for the better. And such a small change from a well meaning old muggle would impact the Wizarding World for years to come. But no one would know, no one except Harry Potter.

o0O0o

For most children, the last day of school is met with joyous abandon, for six weeks of freedom stretched before them and when you are ten years old, six weeks could as well as be a lifetime. But for Harry Potter the last day of school was never something to look forward to and this year he had especially dreaded. For next year he was to go to Stonewell High, the local secondary school. A nice enough school in its own right, made even better by the absence of his bully of a cousin, he would still miss Dunhill Primary and the life he lived there. In an almost schizophrenic way he had two lives. The Dursleys slave at Privet Drive and the challenging but comfortable life at Dunhill.

For Harry Potter was an unusual child in that he liked school, now with such a home life who wouldn't? But school wasn't just an escape for him, it was an entirely different world. Mrs Hill had helped him in his first year there, slowly showing him that she could be trusted, assigning him jobs to keep him inside at break and away from his cousin, bringing in much too large a lunch with which to share with him, never asking the whereabouts of his homework on the occasions that Dudley had found it, sometimes ripping it up, sometimes claiming it as his own. And such kindness never before experienced by the young boy caused a need to reciprocate. For never had he had someone to listen to his problems, never had someone to care for him and with his childish notions of repayment he studied hard for his teacher. Being a quick study in the home had made him avoid more punishment and now his Aunt Petunia only had to show him something once before he could perform the action as well as any adult. From washing, cooking and cleaning he became proficient in his Aunt's most exacting standards. And so now he put his mind to his studies.

Surprised at her student's ability and work ethic, Mrs Hill set harder and harder work, giving extra lessons when needed or supplying extra books and materials. But mindful of the fact that he would be with her for only a year, she prepared the other teachers who slowly became more and more involved with such a promising young student. Careful never to alert his relatives, the teachers of Dunhill Primary revelled in such an excellent student, slowly advancing him beyond his peers at a rate that was outstanding. And Harry Potter found contentment in working hard, never truly realising that by working for the praise of his teachers he was extending his abilities far further then fate had ever dreamed possible.

o0O0o


	2. Chapter 2

Harry walked slowly home from primary school for the very last time. Buoyed by the talk he had with his teachers and the heavy weight of his bag full of going away books, he nevertheless felt sad that he would never again sit in those colourful classrooms, or enjoy a debate of politics with Mr Adams, or discussions on the theory of relativity with Mr Carmichael. Stonewall High was an unknown, and though reassured by Mrs Hill as to the character of the teachers there, he didn't trust easily. Learning from an early age all about the masks that adults wear in public from the Dursley's, nice normal family that they were, he needed a long time to feel comfortable enough to trust others and even longer to depend on them.

The summer stretched before him, no doubt filled with the many chores that his aunt and uncle could come up with, to keep him busy and as normal as could be. He never really understood why he wasn't normal in their eyes. Yes he had survived the car crash that killed his parents, and yes he scored in the genius range on certain tests he took (which were never sent home in case of a sudden interest from his guardians), but his aunt and uncle always insisted he was abnormal, different in a way that they seemed scared that he would contaminate them. And so he kept secret his additional education, made sure to never show his intelligence or knowledge of the world around him, and definitely never ever allowed them to see his 'gifts'.

If fact no-one knew of said 'gifts'. For though he knew the teachers at school saw him as special, he knew that being able to heal cuts within seconds, disappear then appear somewhere else and float objects to him was not something he should talk about for fear of white padded walls and an interesting drug regimen. He didn't know if he was the only person able to do these things, some of which he could only do when he desperately needed to and others with a little practise he could do all the time, but he couldn't think of a way to safely find out. And so he studied hard and practised at his 'gifts' in the knowledge that one day he would be free of the Dursley's, free from Privet Drive and he intended to be prepared as possible for that day.

o0O0o

"…_they attempted to modify the theory by making the gravitational force repulsive at very large distances. This did not significantly affect their predictions of the motions of the planets, but it allowed an infinite distribution of stars to remain in equilibrium – with the attractive forces between nearby stars balanced by the repulsive forces from those that were farther away. However, we now believe such an equilibrium would be unstable: if the stars in some region got only slightly nearer…_" [1]

Harry looked up from the pages of his book and wiped his eyes of the dust from Dudley's descent of the stairs, he marked his place with a sigh and quickly hid the book under the thin foam mattress of his cot bed before his aunt opened the door. It wouldn't do for her to find his stash of books, no matter the questions raised or the beating for being different, he couldn't bear to spend the entire summer without some sort intellectual stimulus without going crazy. He could only rarely smuggle his uncle's paper into his cupboard at the end of the day, especially now his aunt had insisted on recycling anything and everything in existence. He assumed it must be the new 'in' thing to do among the neighbours, because Aunt Petunia didn't seem the type to bother with the environment, not if the amount of hairspray she used daily was any indication.

A quick bang on the cupboard door followed by the swish of the bolt let Harry know that it was time to start the day, first with the monumental size breakfast Dudley insisted on during the holidays when he had hours of leisure time to fill with eating. The plop of the mail landing on the mat made him turn to retrieve the post before he was asked, though never thanked for such things, it made for less yelling and that was always a good thing. A quick rifle through the envelopes made Harry almost jump with surprise, for there was thick envelope made of what seemed expensive paper and addressed in green ink. Though unusual this was not what had caused such a sudden shock to go through him, it was the fact that for the first time in eleven years someone had sent Harry Potter a letter.

A bang from the kitchen quickly brought Harry out of his staring and rushing forward, stopping for only a second to push the envelope under his cupboard door, he entered the kitchen quickly. Without a word he placed the other mail at his uncle's side on the table and then went to the stove, taking over the cooking without a sound. Inside he was shaking and his mind was racing as fast as it normally did when his teachers gave an unexpected pop quiz. Determined not to let his relatives spoil such a monumental occasion he slowed his movements down and was deliberate in his actions. For no reason did he want to draw attention to himself, and spilling the coffee or dropping the plates would be a sure fire way of attracting attention.

o0O0o

It was later in the day after mowing the lawn (again), weeding the front garden (I'm sure Aunt Petunia must replant the things they grow so quickly), and doing the laundry (how on earth does Dudley get through six pairs of jeans in two days?) he retreated to his cupboard. Lunch was finished and his determination to not become distracted during the day had worked as he was given a whole cheese sandwich to take with him. Sitting on his cot bed nibbling on the crusts he stared at the mysterious envelope. The sounds of his family loudly talking about Vernon's new work car for the entire neighbourhood to overhear, was drowned out by the sound of his thumping heart beat.

Slowly pealing back the wax seal imprinted with a large H and a fancy crest with minutely detailed animals in the four quadrants (he had thought that method of sealing mail was outdated a century or two ago), he slid what he thought he recognised as parchment out and took a deep breath … only to lose it after reading the first line.

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY_

_Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore_

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf Warlock,_

_Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

_Dear Mr Potter,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins on 1st September. We await your owl by no later than 31st July._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Deputy Headmistress_

Now if it wasn't for the fact that he knew the Dursley's had no sense of humour, he would have sworn it was some sort of trick on their part. One to make him look foolish or to draw him out and make a case of insanity. But there it was in black and white, well green and parchment coloured, and for some reason he felt … content, in a way that he wasn't sure he had felt before, but for some reason this felt right. With no other option he looked inside himself and decided that to follow his instinct, one that had never led him astray was a good enough reason as not. Scanning the list of books and equipment and then rereading the letter provoked many questions, the most prominent being

"They await my owl…?"

Unsure of exactly what that meant unless it was something like a carrier pigeon, he routed among his school things until he found a notebook. With as much care as his shaking hand would allow, he wrote his reply.

_Dear Ms McGonagall_

_I have received your letter and was shocked as to what I read. Disregarding this as some prank of my relatives, I would be very grateful if someone could come and talk to me and explain in more detail. I live with my Aunt and Uncle who don't know anything about magic and I would appreciate someone who could tell me more about the school, and such things as to where I could purchase my school supplies. _

_Thank you for your time,_

_Harry Potter._

Checking his spelling and grammar again, he wanted to make a good impression after all, he quickly exited his cupboard and finding an envelope in the kitchen drawer wrote McGonagall's name and Hogwarts School. Stumped as to the rest of the address he peaked outside to check on his relatives just in time to see them driving away. Remembering something about them shopping for Dudley's new school uniform and pondering on how to send the letter with no more than a school name, his eyes alighted on a very strange sight. Sitting on the garden fence staring at him was an owl. Now the presence of an owl in broad daylight is one thing, that it hadn't been shooed away by his relatives was another, the fact that it didn't seem to look away from him tipped the balance between coincidence and purposeful behaviour. Not understanding how, blaming it on magic and other such vague notions he reached over and opened the window. No sooner he had done so than the owl took off and landed on the window sill. Feeling rather stupid Harry extended the letter towards the owl.

"Would you possibly be able to deliver this to the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School, a Ms McGonagall for me?" he asked as politely as he could (this is an owl we're talking about, but good manners never cost you a thing).

The owl let out a calming reassuring sort of hoot before taking the letter in its beak and flying out of the window. Shocked at experiencing something that shouldn't have been possible, Harry mindlessly tidied the living room and the kitchen before going back to his cupboard to reread his letter. One thing he was absolutely certain of, this one letter, his first ever letter would change everything.

o0O0o

[1] _A Brief History of Time - Stephen Hawking - Chapter 1_


	3. Chapter 3

_**AN: My thanks to annv and ladysavay for their reviews and comments. I hope you like this next part. To all those Latin scholars out there please forgive my bumbling attempts. Any corrections you have, please feel free to let me know.**_

o0O0o

Harry awoke to the slamming of the front door. Smiling he fumbled for the light and reached to get dressed. How it was his fault that Dudley was so wide that Smeltings clothiers didn't have uniform in his size he didn't know, nevertheless it was of course, his fault. The towering rage of his uncle coming home, and the dirty looks from his aunt convinced him for a moment that they had somehow known about the letter. But no, it was his fault apparently that they had to get a tailor made uniform and that the cost could be enormous (though their little Dudikins was worth it). And so he was forced back into the cupboard and the bolt was drawn.

The threat of no food for days didn't hurt as much as it used to. With Dudley's eating habits and the sporadic application of some of his 'gifts', their habitual starvation was little more than threats as he was able to sneak out of his cupboard at night when they had all gone to bed. By taking a little here and there it was never missed, and with planning and a little warning he was sometimes able to hoard a little food to last him for days. His hording skills had improved over the years. The use of an empty pop bottle for tap water and a loose floorboard to hide those plastic takeaway dishes filled with crisps, fruit and occasionally some bread or meat. Not a banquet by any stretch of the imagination, but in comparison to staving for days it was brilliant. But there was one aspect of his hoarding, one could almost say stealing (and his relatives definitely would), he was somewhat uncomfortable with, for though justified it just never sat right. This was of course the rather large bag of money he had accumulated over the years.

His uncle it seemed had the habit of leaving loose change in his pocket and when sitting down on the sofa or putting his clothes in the wash, he never seemed to miss the difference. The first time Harry had found a pound coin in between the sofa cushions he had immediately given it to his aunt, who in the fairness that was his world, locked him in his cupboard for three days for stealing. Now it didn't need a great amount of intelligence to figure out the best way to go about hiding the money, was to wrap it in a pillow case and hide it in the further most corner of his cupboard, where his aunt would never check.

He never actually stole any money from the wallet of his uncle, but by short changing the shopping money and picking up discarded change he was able to collect a hefty five or ten pounds a week. Justified in the accumulation of his 'pocket money' through hard work, if not exactly kosher means, he had a goodly amount stashed away for the day in which he could leave Privet Drive for good. And this was the money he had hoped would enable him to buy his school things. He just hoped that by limiting his spending and by buying second hand things when possible he would be able to live well enough for the next couple of years until he could make his own way in the world.

A smart tapping on the door startled him out of his musings of the stack of paper notes before him. It had taken a while but he was now a regular customer at the post office, changing the collected coins for paper notes, coins clanked so much and took up so much room, he thought it only best that he minimise the chances of getting caught. Another knock on the door hastened his movements and with a concentrated burst of power, he saw in his mind the bolt on his cupboard sliding unlocked. The accompanying click followed by the door swinging open caused a small smile to fill his face. Magic, for that was what it must be, seemed to be one of the best things he could dream of. Quickly reaching the front door, he opened it slightly and peered out. A risky business opening the door when he was supposedly locked in his cupboard, but the Dursleys wouldn't have knocked and the neighbours barely gave him the time of day.

Stood outside the door was a man. Well he assumed he was a man. Standing at the same height as Harry himself, he was dressed in a smart if slightly old fashioned three piece suit.

"Hello," he whispered. Something about the man was making him feel different. Like when he used his 'gifts' he felt a sort of power, and there was more power rolling of this small man than he had expected due to his size.

"Good morning, Mr Potter I presume?" Though phrased as a question Harry didn't think he actually needed a response. Something about the way he looked at him, the way his face softened just slightly, made him think he should know him.

"Yes, nice to meet you. And you are?"

"Ah, yes, I am Professor Filius Flitwick, Mr Potter. We received your letter yesterday and I was assigned to help show you around our world. Might I come in?"

Wordlessly he nodded and let him enter the house. Leading him to the living room he allowed him to take a seat before perching on the end of the sofa. After a quick look around and a few raised eyebrows Professor Flitwick turned to look at him.

"It's real then, what was said in the letter. I was wondering if it was just some huge sort of prank."

Mouth twitching in memories at the word prank he looked at the boy who it seemed had no idea of just who he was. He had understood Albus' decision to leave him here (though uneasy over Minerva's objections), away from the acclaim and attention he would have received. But even he had assumed that his relatives would have said something to the boy.

"Yes Mr Potter the world of magic is real, and you are a Wizard just like I am." With a flick of his wrist his wand was in his hand and suddenly some of Aunt Petunia's precious figurines were tap dancing on the mantle. Wincing at the thought of her coming home to broken china, he attempted to divert the professor's attention away from the performance of tricks and back to answering some of the many questions he had.

"You know Sir, that my relatives don't like anything abnormal in their lives, and well, I don't think they will like me going to a magical school. I definitely can't see them paying for anything." A pensive silence met this pronouncement. Harry hoped as hard as he could that another feat of magic would occur and the tiny professor would have a solution to one of the main factors preventing him from his dream – getting away from the Dursleys.

"Well Mr Potter, whether they mentioned it to you or not, your guardians do know about magic. How could your aunt not, after all her sister was a witch and went to Hogwarts when she was eleven. No Mr Potter they know, though why they didn't tell you is anyone's guess. And with regards to the cost, your parents were very wealthy. Your father was the last heir to a very old line of families, not only the Potter's, and they set up a trust fund for you for your schooling and other necessities. Normal procedure in any case, for the heir to such fortunes but with the spectre of war it was common sense to make sure you were well provided for."

Now, Harry was intelligent and well versed with conversing with adults, but even so it took a few moments for the implications to set in.

"War?"

And so followed the history of Lord Voldemort, his rise to power and devastation of the Wizarding World stopped on that memorable Halloween Night, with him left with nothing but a scar. The fame of his name had barely set in before the professor, on looking about the room enquired as to the location of his relatives.

"Oh, they went to get my cousin school things, they won't be back for a while."

"Alright Mr Potter, I assume you would like to pick up your school things now, we have all day, but these things always take longer than one expects"

Professor Flitwick seemed a mine of information about the Wizarding World, and Hogwarts in particular. As head of the brainy house Ravenclaw, he seemed rather pleased at all the questions and Harry's thirst to learn. While trying not to be too biased he strongly hinted that he would welcome Harry into his house if he was so chosen, though remained rather closed lipped on just how students were sorted. After a rather uncomfortable trip on something called the Knight Bus, they arrived at a dingy looking pub The Leaky Cauldron. Quickly ushered through to avoid any staring Harry found himself staring at a brick wall that then melted away after a few purposeful taps of a wand.

Diagon Alley, the main shopping district of the Wizarding World was full of sights and sounds never seen before, and Harry thought that he would get crick in his neck from trying to see everything at once. The marble face to the bank only impressed him further, especially after seeing goblins for the first time. Not knowing that the usual wizards comportment towards goblins was little more that pained sufferance, he found himself being particularly polite to the goblin teller. Harry had decided that it was always a good idea to be extra especially nice to those that kept your money secure. After a surprisingly short wait they reached the teller and Harry allowed Professor Flitwick to start the conversation.

"Mr Harry Potter would like to make a withdrawal from his Vault."

"And does Mr Harry Potter have his Key?" For a second panic ran through him. Key? Why would you need a key? But the smooth handing over of a gold key smothered any questions for now.

"Griphook will escort you to your vault. Griphook!"

Another goblin appeared at their side, took the key and then gestured for them to follow. For a magical society that could have no end of ways to move around, the use of mine carts seemed rather backwards, but for all his experience of first impressions being deceiving, he kept quiet, puzzling out the mystery in his head. At the arrival of his vault, and the discovery of so many mounds of gold, silver and bronze coins, the questions in his head doubled. It seemed as if he wouldn't have to be as frugal as he thought. Let alone not needing to touch any of his 'muggle' money.

After seeing the look on the clients face a few things became clearer to the goblin Griphook.

"The gold coins are galleons, the silver ones sickles and the bronze ones knuts. Twenty nine knuts to a sickle, and seventeen sickles to a galleon, quite simple really. Your trust fund of course is of the tantum superstes familia [1] category, though I am sure you are aware of that?" The leading tone of that question led Harry to scrub up on his memory of basic Latin.

"No I didn't, I didn't even know of the existence of such a vault until an hour ago." This seemed to be the right answer as Griphook nodded to himself, and then peered at the confused looking Professor Flitwick.

"As such I doubt you have been receiving your monthly statements? No? Well we at Gringotts will look into this at once, perhaps you would be able to visit at a later date in order to talk with your account manager?"

While this was being said they were led back to the cart after a larger than possible amount of coins were placed inside a small leather pouch. Harry nodded and memorised what he had been told about the process of using the weird owl post as a form of communication.

o0O0o

The bright sun and fresh air was a welcome relief after the many shocks he had just experienced. Without a word Professor Flitwick steered Harry into a dusty looking shop with a display of a single wand in its front window. The bell jangled announcing their presence to the thick air around them. Closed in on all sides by shelves bursting with small thin boxes the claustrophobic feeling was intensified when the shop owner, presumably Mr Ollivander, appeared from behind them with no more notice than his introduction.

"Ah Mr Potter I wondered when I would be seeing you. I remember the day I sold your parents their wands…"

And what followed seemed an exhausting process of elimination. For there was no logical method that he could discern in the different wands he was asked to try. As reticent as he was to reveal his ability with his 'gifts' without a wand he felt that it was soon approaching that time, just in case they decided it had all been a big mistake and he wasn't magical at all. But the moment his fingers reached for that one wand he felt something different. All of the wands in the shop had a faint stirring of the magical power he felt when using his 'gifts', or around the wizards and witches he had met so far, but this wand was different. Twirling around his hand, the power was caressing and welcoming in its feel and it felt, well … right.

"Ah, yes curious. A nice and supple holy and phoenix wand, eleven inches … you will find Mr Potter throughout your education in the Wizarding World, that magic is a force of nature at its most basic, it strives for balance, and I think we can expect great things from you Mr Potter. For You-Know-Who did great things, terrible yes, but great. So curious that you should be chosen by the brother wand, curious, but then that is magic at its greatest…"

Mr Ollivander trailed off, making his way through the numerous shelves towards the back of the store muttering to himself. A little more than slightly disturbed, Harry quickly placed the seven galleons payment on the counter and left with Professor Flitwick trailing behind him. Already in the Wizarding World an hour and he had yet to have a 'normal' experience.

"Where to next Professor?"

"Well Mr Potter I would suggest you buy a trunk first, it will allow you to pack any succeeding purchases away without having to carry them."

Nodding at the wisdom of that logic, he trailed the professor through the crowds towards the luggage store. Keeping his head down, not wanting to be recognised, whether his scar was well covered or not. He already had too much to think about, it seemed that as hard as he might try he would never be considered normal in this world either.

The luggage store was rather empty of choice. Only about ten trunks were on display inside the store, with a few smaller bags here and there. The shop assistant appeared from behind the counter this time and not from thin air.

"May I help you?" She looked from Harry to the Professor then back to Harry again.

"First year at Hogwarts I take it? Well then," she said after receiving a nod "this is our standard model for all students. One compartment with three times the expected space. If you're looking for something a bit more high end, we have trunks with multiple compartments to allow for more easier organisation of your things. For one off payments, such compartments can be remodelled for specific needs such as the Clothes Cupboard, the Never-ending Library, the Potions Masters Paradise or the Quidditch Fanatics Arena." Seeing the confused and slightly panicked look on his face the store clerk took pity on him.

"Here is a brochure detailing a list of all the additions available and their prices, just let me know if you have any questions." With that she made her way to the rear of the store and busied herself with a magazine entitled Witch Weekly.

After looking through the brochure and being advised by Professor Flitwick that such and such was not needed or not suitable for school, Harry had made his decision. When totalling the value in his head and comparing it with the amount in his leather pouch, Harry came to the conclusion that either the trunk was very cheap by Wizarding standards or the small amount he had taken from his vault was a small fortune. From the raised eyebrow of the sales clerk he rather thought the latter. Determined to look into his finances with greater depth, and promising himself a trip to his vault manager sometime in the near future, Harry collected his second purchase in the Wizarding World.

With rich mahogany, trimmed with shining brass, the trunk was a masterpiece of creation. Five keyhole looking indents corresponded with the five fingers on his hand, an additional security measure that seemed practical after living with Dudley for ten years. The normal fire proofing, water resistant, anti-tamper/hex/curse and other security proofing was an additional comfort. For though he was not expecting his fellow students to be like his cousin, he always prescribed to the quote 'better be safe than sorry'. And since all of the security measures he had installed were passive, no-one could complain.

The visit to Madam Malkins went much smoother. Especially after he asked for double the number of asked for robes made in an upgraded style and material. The addition of some basic 'muggle' clothes rounded out his experience. The asking for "everything I will need for a year at Hogwarts" seemed like a reasonable request to him and yet it sent the helpers and Madam Malkin herself in a tizzy, tripping over themselves trying to be helpful. Though probably an unneeded expense, especially after his decision not a day old to conserve his money, he had never had new clothes, let alone new clothes for him alone. And such an indulgence felt great, especially when he doubted it would make a dent in the pile of coins he could still see in his money pouch.

Potions ingredients and accompanying equipment went as smoothly as could be expected surrounded by gross things such as Dragon Heart and Newts Eyeballs, looks like Macbeth wasn't as fictional as he thought [2]. The stocking up of parchment and ink made him raise a few eyebrows, especially after Professor Flitwick couldn't answer why the Wizarding world had yet to move on to notepad and pens.

But the real highlight of the trip was the visit to Flourish and Blotts. Books upon books were piled high on top of each other. After chuckling at the awed look on his students face, Professor Flitwick offered to pick up the set texts, along with a few others designed for those muggleborns needing an introduction into the Wizarding World. Which left Harry to wander among the shelves occasionally picking up books of his own choosing, more often than not because of the title alone. Meeting up with Professor Flitwick at the cashiers desk and paying for all of the books he was suddenly glad of the Never-ending Library he had had installed in his trunk.

Not actually never-ending, but almost, the trunk opened up to show numerous shelves that would rotate if you waved your hand over it, spinning the shelves on an invisible axis. But the best feature by far was the automatic cataloguing system. All books could be sorted by title, author, subject and contents. Another feature that apparently made it a 'Ravenclaw favourite' was the inbuilt recall system. Just place a book in the library once and after registering and declaring ownership, it would return there from wherever it had been left.

The towers of books were quickly loaded in to the library compartment, to the relief of the shop assistant who was gearing up with numerous bags. A leaflet slipped into the pile also advertised new publications, periodicals and owl order service provided.

By this time the afternoon was going strong and with the last time he had eaten being lunch the previous day his stomach made its dissatisfaction known. During lunch at the Leaky Cauldron, which was much nicer looking on the inside than it was on the out, Harry questioned Professor Flitwick on the normal procedure for Hogwarts, such trivia that many would think inconsequential. But Harry had learned after a lifetime of living with his relatives, it's the small details that could make the world of difference.

For Harry had been planning, almost as soon as he had seen the inside of his vault. He didn't want to live with the Dursleys anymore and no doubt that as soon as they found out about Hogwarts they would want nothing to do with him. But he as yet didn't trust Professor Flitwick, or anyone else he had met so far. The goblins, like human bankers, were probably the most dependable, for wealth had a language of its own that probably transcended the different races. So yes Harry was planning his escape from Privet Drive, but he needed time away from the notice of adults. Because like it or not, one of them had placed him with the Dursleys and not cared about his welfare enough to check up on him. And if that was the standard of behaviour that most of the adults in this world behaved by, he wasn't sure he would be looking to them for advice any time soon.

o0O0o

[1] _tantum superstes familia– only surviving member of a family_

[2] _Macbeth - ACT IV, SCENE I. A cavern. In the middle, a boiling cauldron._


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: With this being my first fanfic of this genre I have so many ideas swarming around in my head. As such even though I like those super powered Harry fics, I don't want this to become one. I want to see how things would turn out if Harry applied a hard work ethic and the strengthening of the intelligence and magical prowess very rarely shown in the books. I believe that even if a person does not have an aptitude for a subject, working hard and applying themselves would always achieve good results. From the books Harry is not unintelligent and not under powered. I think the middling behaviour forced by the Dursley's treatment of him as well as trying to stay friends with Ron and not making himself stand out caused his lacklustre academic performance.**

**Thank you to all those who have reviewed. It really helps, especially any comments asking about the plot development, it keeps me thinking! **

**o0O0o**

The trip back to Privet Drive was one of silence mostly, not because he didn't have any more questions, in fact for every question Professor Flitwick answered it seemed there were ten more. No, he was silent due to the slowly forming plan in his head. With a bit of luck, this would be the last time he ever had to see the Dursleys again. Professor Flitwick didn't insist on coming inside, just handed Harry a ticket with written instructions for the 1st of September. Once off the bus with his trunk, a lot easier due to inbuilt lightening charms, he turned around to wave goodbye, only to find the bus had already disappeared.

Thanking any Gods that were listening that the Dursleys were not yet home he wheeled his trunk to his cupboard door and started throwing everything and anything he thought he might want to keep in to the third compartment. Looking at the mess he shrugged and promised himself he would sort it out later. After making sure he had picked up the money he had saved (scrounged) he took a couple of notes and put them in his pocket before securely hiding it in the first compartment under his newly bought school robes, he locked his trunk and made his way to the kitchen. After writing a short note to his relatives, telling them about his Hogwarts letter and intention of never coming back, he left the note on the kitchen table. Locking the front door he posted the spare keys through the letter box. This was it, he thought, no going back.

Walking towards the local park, waiting for an appropriate amount of time before calling the Knight Bus again, he had a moment of panic when seeing a familiar car coming towards him. Not knowing how to avoid the coming confrontation and not seeing anything to hide behind, he fervently wished that they wouldn't notice him. With a tingle of magic that left him gasping the Dursleys car drove right on pass him with no reaction from the occupants. Not knowing how, and not really caring at this point in time, he grabbed his trunk and quickly made his way as fast as possible in the opposite direction to Privet Drive.

His room at the Leaky Cauldron was nice, especially if you had lived in a cupboard for as long as you could remember. The connected bathroom was an indulgence with a bath provided with numerous different bubble mixtures and a shower that sprayed water in all directions. The mirror that talked back was just a little bit freaky, but realising that there were many such idiosyncrasies in this new world, he was determined to experience as much as he could so he wouldn't be too far behind those that had lived there all their lives.

Making a list of things he wanted to do and the things he wanted to learn took a long time, but settled his thoughts enough to enjoy a healthy meal and an early bed time. He wanted to be up early tomorrow and start putting his plan into action. Who knew when someone would come to try and put him back with the Dursleys.

The next morning following a large but healthy breakfast (who knew why the Dursleys fried everything) he was set to start on his To Do List, starting with Gringotts. After the non hostile reception yesterday he felt slightly better about approaching one of the goblin tellers on his own.

"Yes?"

"I was wondering if I could see the manager to my vaults, or to make an appointment if he is too busy." After a second or two of being appraised by the teller he started to feel slightly uncomfortable, had he unknowing made some grievous faux pas?

"Name?"

"Potter" A raised eyebrow was the only indication of hearing the response.

"This way Mr Potter."

He really needed to find a way to stop people from sneaking up on him. Following the goblin that had magically appeared at his side (realising with a start it quite possibly was magic), he was led off one of the corridors next to those that led down to the vaults. He was waved through a thick looking wooden door to find an expensively decorated office. Behind a large ornate desk sat a very impressive looking goblin. Older looking than most goblins he had met, his teeth seemed sharper and his ears longer. Whether that was just differing facial features among the goblin race or representative of something was a thought pushed back for later consideration.

"Ah Mr Potter, I am Goblin Elder Snarktooth. I am in charge of your numerous vaults, holdings and investments. I have been expecting to meet with you for some time, though I have been reliably informed yesterday that you were not told of your inheritance or receiving you monthly statements?"

Sitting down in front of the massive table and listening to Snarktooth's greeting, he had the suspicion that there were undercurrents that he was missing and as of yet completely unaware of.

"No I was not aware of my inheritance. Before yesterday I was under the impression that my parents were destitute when they were killed in a car crash. Obviously this was not so. I was hoping that you would be able to explain how such a thing could happen, and what you are doing to ensure it never happens again."

Though grateful of the honesty with which he was being shown, he needed to make sure that this goblin didn't underestimate him. He wanted answers and he needed help, but first of all he needed discover whether this Snarktooth was trustworthy. An intense look followed this declaration lasting only a few seconds and yet it felt like a lifetime to the boy whose plans all hinged on finding some measure of cooperation.

"I assure you Mr Potter that we were unaware that your magical guardian had not informed you of such things, as is you legal right after the age of eight. I have prepared a list of all aspects of your inheritance for your perusal. Interest has accrued at above the national rate, though investments have stagnated slightly due to the limitations placed on the accounts after your parents died."

At this a thick stack of parchment was extended over the desk towards Harry.

"This is a summary?"

"Yes Mr Potter your account is one of the largest that Gringotts currently holds. As such please allow me to convey the Goblin Nations deep regret at the mishandling of your account."

The hint of nervousness in Snarktooth's voice as well as the extensive preparation that had been done in anticipation of his arrival made Harry assume that the apology was genuine.

"Thank you Goblin Elder Snarktooth. I accept your apology. I came here today hoping to find someone whom I could trust with such matters and I believe I have found that person. May I ask how long you have been in charge of the vaults; did you perhaps know my father?"

The acceptance of the apology and with such a manner of sincerity shocked the goblin for a moment, more so when such trust was expressed. For no human in the history of Gringotts, no matter how well meaning had ever treated the Goblins with such favour. Most would have taken that apology and used it for their own gains, as such it was very rare that the Goblins of Gringotts ever issued such an apology and it could have been disastrous if manipulated.

"Yes Mr Potter I did have the honour of meeting you father, your mother once as well during the finalising of their Will. I inherited the Potter accounts from my predecessor a few years before your father reached his majority. He was a good man and treated us Goblins better than most."

The wistful expression on the young heirs face allowed Snarktooth to draw his own conclusions. But he mentally added a note for Griphook to be rewarded, his quick thinking and use of intelligent questioning had saved the Gringotts from a rather large embarrassment, and if he was right, and it was very rare he was not, the Goblin Nation had just gained a new champion in the Boy-Who-Lived.

"Would I be able to see the Will Sir? I would like to know what it said."

"But of course Mr Potter. You should know that your magical guardian, as executor of the Will had it sealed after your parents' death for security reasons. The only way for us to show you the Will would be if you have directly asked for it."

With that statement a scroll made from luxurious parchment and bound by red and gold ribbons was handed over and Snarktooth left the office to allow his client some privacy.

Harry traced his finger over the wax seal. An intricately designed crest bore a creature with the body of a lion and the head and wings of an eagle, the animal rising up on its hind legs. In the front two limbs a sword was held displayed with symbolic significance. Slowly peeling off the wax seal careful not to damage it, the parchment when unravelled bore a surprising gift.

Another envelope with his name on it had been included in the document. Scanning the will and getting confused in the legalese that all such documents seemed to be written in, the best he could make out was that in the event of both his parents dying all of their belongings, property, titles and wealth would revert to him. Placing it carefully on the desk top he turned to the letter.

_My Dearest Son,_

_Happy Eighth Birthday. _

_Hopefully your father and I are sitting beside you, helping to explain all the boring legal aspects that are a part of life, while laughing at the morbid necessity of preparing for death at so young an age. But if we are not there next to you, then the Fidelius Charm has failed, we were betrayed by Peter, and Voldemort found us._

_The Will in which you found this letter is a magically binding document. Everything that belonged to your father and I is now yours to do with as you wish. Some would say that you are too young for such responsibilities, but your father and I believe you will do us proud, and will use what resources that are available to you in the fight against the darkness. _

_I hate to place such a burden upon your shoulders my son but we are living in dark times, and though I believe Albus Dumbledore to be of the light, I fear that you will run afoul of his greatest weakness. For you see he can view people as pawns to be moved around the chessboard of life according to his views of 'the greater good'. I hope this warning is not needed, and that by now Voldemort is gone and you are happy and healthy. _

_If you need help, trust in Goblin Elder Snarktooth, he has pledged his assistance if you need it and his advice to us has always been sound. _

_In the Potter Hereditary Vaults your father and I have left journals and other things that will help you in our place. _

_Know that your father and I love you with all our hearts._

_Your loving mother,_

_Lily Evans Potter_

The words of his mother, for the first time seeing her handwriting and touching paper she herself had touched, was almost too much for a young boy of ten to deal with. And yet the fierce determination to make them proud wherever they may be, fought and won over the grief.

With exaggerated motions Goblin Elder Snarktooth entered his office, carrying with him two small ring boxes. Noticing the emotional state of the young heir he waited a moment to allow for some composure to be gained.

"As you will now be aware Mr Potter, everything has been left to you."

"Yes, my mother also wrote me a letter telling me to trust in you for help if I ever needed it. And so, I am asking for your help."

With a deep breath Harry revealed everything that had occurred over the past two days and his plans for the future. He finished with a question.

"Will you help me?"

"Yes Mr Potter I will. As the heir and last remaining member of the Potter family you are able to declare yourself an emancipated minor and as such, independent of normal age restrictions. This does not allow you to vote or gives you unrestricted access to your holdings, it does however make you free to choose where you live and you will be able to choose your own advisor who will act as a legal guardian. You will not be able to accept the title of Lord Potter until your fifteenth birthday, however you would have more control over your life and your finances. At the moment all such business is conducted through you magical guardian." A thoughtful pause ensued.

"And who is my magical guardian, and will they still have control over me?"

"Your magical guardian is Albus Dumbledore, as so stated in your parents Will. It is he who should have informed you of your inheritance and he who should have brought you to Gringotts on your eighth birthday for the traditional legal meeting with us. If you decide to declare yourself emancipated he will cease to have any involvement with you, aside from as your headmaster of course, unless of course you choose him as your advisor."

The smile on Snarktooth's face would have been scary if Harry knew it was directed at him.

"And what would you advise I do Goblin Elder Snarktooth?"

Rather a pointless question at this point in time, but for proprieties sake he wanted to make sure he had at least discussed other options.

"I would advise you to declare yourself emancipated, and then choose someone who you trust to take on the role of advisor. They must be of legal age in the Wizarding World and for no legal reason unable to act on your behalf.

"With regards to the Black inheritance, as part of accepting the position of godfather, Sirius Orion Black named you his heir apparent in the case of his fathering no heir of his own blood."

"He's dead?"

"No, he is in the maximum security ward of Azkaban Prison for betraying your parents to the Dark Lord."

Remembering his mother's letter he asked for more details. Unsurprisingly certain things didn't add up, especially when it was realised that no actual trial had been held. The ministry at the least was guilty of not following due process of the law. After reading the proffered letter Snarktooth promised that some of the best Gringotts lawyers would be put on the case. A wave of Snarktooth's hand and two boxes opened.

"In these boxes are the family rings. One of them is the Potter scion ring. Worn when an heir is not yet old enough to claim the full title of Lord Potter but is head of the family due to death or disqualification of the previous lord, it should be worn on you left ring finger. The House of Black Heir Apparent ring should be worn on your right little finger." As Snarktooth explained the correct positioning Harry withdrew each ring in turn and placed then on the indicated finger. Each resized and then settled comfortably.

"For safety reasons only you will be able to remove the rings, if the any of the rings are removed and for some reason not replaced within ten hours they will return to Gringotts where you would need to collect them personally after proving your identity. They can be made to be invisible if you do not wish to display your status. These family rings come from two of the oldest lines in the Wizarding World. As such each of them holds hereditary knowledge about the location, protections and functions of the family properties. All you need do is to think of a place while concentrating on the ring and the knowledge will be available. Such functions will only work for the Potter ring until access is granted by Lord Black."

"You made mention of the advisor position, I assume that as he is in prison my Godfather is not able to assume the role?"

"You are correct. I take it then that you will not wish to appoint Albus Dumbledore as your advisor?"

"After the mismanagement of the knowledge of my accounts and the exclusion of all knowledge of the Wizarding World while growing up I do not trust the man. I need an advisor as part of being emancipated?"

"No you do not. You need one to alter any of your investments or to transfer money from your hereditary vaults for such things as campaign donations or upgrades to your properties." At an arched eyebrow the unasked question was answered, nodding to the stack of parchment in his lap. "All properties are also included in your financial summary."

"So if I wished, I could become emancipated but without nominating an advisor? I don't suppose goblins are eligible?"

Snarktooth stifled the amused response when he saw the thoughtful look upon the young boys face.

"No Mr Potter they are not. It must be a wizard, fully qualified at that."

"I will think on it. Perhaps you could look into improving those investments that we were talking about in anticipation of me finding someone I trust enough?"

"Of course. Now to fully become emancipated you must sign the following."

And with that the rest of the morning flew by as parchment upon parchment was placed in front of him. During the explanations of what he was signing Harry had a crash course in Wizarding finances and government. Such things as magically binding contracts and Wizards Oaths became incorporated into his vocabulary. Determined to be responsible and prove the trust placed in him by his parents, he wanted to make sure he knew everything that he needed to manage his affairs in a competent manner without becoming completely dependent on anyone for advice.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: To all those who reviewed thank you. Hope you all enjoy this next part.**

o0O0o

With a tired hand and a large amount of paperwork to look over Harry left Gringotts with a new sense of purpose. Heading to his room at the Leaky Cauldron he ordered a large but relatively healthy lunch to be sent up. Placing all the paperwork on his bed and emptying the messy third compartment Harry organised his things from his life at Privet Drive into piles. His books, school uniform and other respectable 'muggle' clothes were placed in separate pile along with his few treasured possessions. A worn baby blanket, a teddy bear missing an eye and half its stuffing, and his birth certificate liberated from Aunt Petunia's top drawer. The Dudley castoffs, unneeded old school work and other such things that accumulate over the years were placed on the 'bin' pile. Adding his recently purchased school things from the first compartment to the piles he quickly devised a system to store all his belongings.

His 'muggle' books were added into the library after registering them. Whether they would be any use to him in this new world he didn't know, but he saw no reason to throw them out, it wasn't as if he was lacking space. His new clothes were hung in the wardrobe, making sure that all shirts were together, as were all the trousers and all the robes. It may have been easier to throw everything in, but Aunt Petunia did have a point. It would probably save time later. Placing his _good_ old clothes into the washing hamper in the room, he closed the fifth compartment. Intending to get all new 'muggle' clothes he had realised that at some point he would probably need some old clothes for doing messy jobs, but wanted to rid them of the dusty smell of the cupboard first.

He resorted the remaining things back into the first compartment. Potions kit and apparatus were organised into the accompanying carrier and placed in a corner with parchment and quills alongside. Making sure all the ink bottles were securely tightened and placed snugly along the edge he added the remaining school things in a way that made them easily reachable. Proud of his work he turned to his lunch that had arrived in the meantime.

After finishing the rather large lunch, he sat down to look over his To Do List. Putting a tick by Gringotts, he added notes to follow up on the progress regarding the Sirius Black case and to purchase books on Wizarding law, finance and government. Making a shopping list he divided the items he wanted into two, one normal (muggle) and one magical. Picking up his old school bag and placed in it the normal list he tapped his Gringotts key with his wand and stated

"Muggle, pounds sterling." Looking down at his hand that had been holding his golden vault key, he now held a credit card. Not completely trusting that the charms would work, he added a hundred pounds from his stash to his bag. Just in case.

o0O0o

Finding the directions through London to the nearest department store was easy, so was finding the right floor. But that was where his luck seemed to run out. Looking at all the surrounding displays he started to feel just a little overwhelmed. He was closed in on all sides by types upon types of clothing, where was he going to start?

Thinking quickly of a nice cover story, he found a kind looking lady employee. He did his best to look lost and asked for her help. Explaining that a house fire had destroyed the majority of his wardrobe, and that his parents were still busy with the insurance people down the road, he said he wanted to get a head start on replacing his things. Knowing that the charms on his 'credit-card' would allow for the purchase of the items with no-one questioning it, he still had to navigate his way through the daunting task ahead of him.

Working his charm had apparently paid off and it must have been a slow day because after handing over his list as a guideline he had three female employees choosing clothes and gushing over him. Admitting he had no clue on fashion but that money was no object he was gently herded into the dressing room by one of the employees. He was then handed piles upon piles of clothes leaving the ladies to discuss the colouring, cut and style.

Not sure what all the fuss was about as his previous experience of suitable clothes meant finding ones with the fewest holes in, he was still very appreciative that after only two and a half hours of time he had a large selection of clothes that could easily last him until next year. From boxers and socks, to five new pairs of shoes, he declared his shopping expedition a success. Now all he needed to do was get everything back to his room.

Thanking the assistants who had helped load him into a waiting taxi he directed the driver to the right road. After unloading just outside the Leaky Cauldrons entrance and paying the fare, he started to traipse the many bags up the stairs to his room. Luckily no one took much notice of him on his many trips. The previous work he had done organising his things seemed to have paid off. That or the inbuilt spells in his wardrobe compartment that sorted and stored clothes neatly were doing a fantastic job. After packing away all of his things he once again consulted his list. Ticking off one more thing on his To Do List he settled into his bed, selecting from his library the _Introduction to the Wizarding World _that Professor Flitwick had picked out for him, he immersed himself in the subject until dinner time.

For the next three days Harry stayed in his room most of the time reading through the Introductory books that gave him a broad understanding about this new world that he was to become a part of. He made another list of suggested book titles and areas where he wanted more information. And added to the list of things he wanted to buy.

His knew that the Wizarding World still used parchment and quills. And as charming as that may seem, he really did not see the value of having various different scrolls laying around, and aside from a basic pigeon hole system there seemed to be no way of organising them. Though willing to immerse himself in this new culture using quills and rolls of parchment seemed just a little silly, tradition for traditions sake.

After reading _Hogwarts a History_, _Hogwarts Charter _and _Hogwarts Self Updating Rule Book_ and finding no rule against it he decided to organise his notes the way he had done all his life. With one notepad specifically designated for each subject, to stop his class taken notes becoming mixed up and loose lined paper for his final notes to be contained in an A4 folder. This would probably upset some of the more traditional teachers, and so he had decided to use a quill and parchment for handing in assignments only.

Unsure if he wanted to leave the castle at all during the holidays, that meant another trip to London for stationary to last a year. This time he remembered to take his trunk with him. A year's supply of paper weighed more than you might think. Stocking up on paper, notepads and folders was only one part of it. He brought himself a luxury fountain pen with additional nibs with the choice of using disposable or refillable cartridges. Choosing to buy both he also stocked up on biros, highlighters, pencil pens and coloured felt tips. Hogwarts was in for a shock.

Six days after he had received his Hogwarts letter, he was sitting down in the main bar area of The Leaky Cauldron eating breakfast and watching the different sorts of people coming and going. Flipping through an abandoned _Daily Prophet_ he found his eyes drawn to a particular article, for there on the third page was his name. In large letters the headline of the piece reminded the reader that this year Harry Potter was going to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It continued on by reviewing what had happened ten years previously, along with some rather imaginative speculation of where he had been all this time and what he had been doing. What a brilliant birthday present.

After finishing his meal he made his way to the corner of the bar. Propped up in the corner Tom the bar owner was finishing his own meal while keeping an eye on his establishment.

"Ah young Harry. I believe many happy returns are in order. Happy Birthday."

Years of being a publican meant that Tom knew quite a lot about anticipating his customer's needs and their requests. So though he was truly happy to wish The-Boy-Who-Lived a very happy birthday, he did so in a rather quiet circumspect way with absolutely no mention of the name Potter. Even the Guest Book listed him as Harry Evans.

"Thank you Tom, I was hoping to go into Diagon Alley but as you can see I'm not sure that is wise today," Harry said gesturing to the open paper.

"Well why don't you come to the office, I'm sure I could do something to make you a little less recognisable, haven't needed to in a long time mind you, but I am sure I'll be able to manage a glamour or two."

And that's how Harry _Evans_, with brown hair blue eyes and a nice tan, came to be walking down Diagon Alley with barely a care in the world. After wandering through Flourish and Blotts for a while and placing an order of extra books he wanted, to be delivered to his room at The Leaky Cauldron, he found his way to Eelops Owl Emporium.

Entering he felt a hush descend like that in a really strict library. He had been debating within himself ever since he had gotten his letter whether he should get a pet. The Dursleys would never have let him have one, and he was just getting used to being on his own and making his own decisions that he wasn't sure that he was ready to take care of one. Thinking on his choices he really didn't fancy a toad. So that left a cat or an owl. Remembering Mrs Figg and all her cats decided it for him, an owl it was. So Harry, though decided, had waited for his birthday. He had never received a birthday present, though he couldn't remember his first birthday he assumed he had gotten presents then, so he decided to wait and mark his first birthday in the Wizarding world with something special.

The shop was dark, filled with rustling and glittering jewel like eyes peering from the gloom. Careful not to disturb any of the creatures he gently closed the door and made himself walk slowly deeper into the shop. He had read about post owls in _A Guide to Magical Communication_ another one of those handy little pamphlets. Different from an ordinary owl, they can sense the recipient anywhere in the world (as long as they were not hidden), flying faster and for longer they were one of the most secure ways to deliver mail. The pamphlet had mentioned that a well chosen owl, one that matched with their owner was almost like a well chosen wand in that a bond would form.

And that was what Harry was looking for. A pet that he had a connection with. After looking around, he closed his eyes and 'felt' with his magic, searching for that one pull that called him. After a second or two he took a few steps in the direction of the pull and held his arm up ready. He pushed with his magic a feeling of welcoming acceptance. A second later he felt a weight landing on his arm. Compensating for the landing motion he opened his eyes to a beautiful snowy owl with dark amber eyes appraising him.

"Hello. Would you like to come with me?" He gently brought his other hand up and petted what he was sure was a she. In answer to his question his new owl bobbed her head and let out a soothing hoot.

"Well alright then, I think I'll name you Hedwig." After making his way to the counter, and paying for Hedwig, a cage, perch and assorted food items along with some recommended reading material he made his way back to The Leaky Cauldron with his birthday present.

Though the past few days had been nice, doing what he wanted when he wanted, Harry was starting to feel restless. He had practically memorised all the introductory books and Hogwarts a History. He had finished all of his shopping as far as he knew and had the pamphlets for owl order from the main shops. What he now wanted to do was get down and start working hard. No matter how many chores he had to do at Privet Drive he had always made time for his school work.

Following one of the suggestions into the _Introduction to Hogwarts for Muggleborns_ pamphlet, he had read through the introductory chapters of all of his set school books to get a feel for the different subjects. Compiling a timetable for the next month until school started, he decided on five grouping that included his school subjects as well as three others he wanted to become more knowledgeable about. With five groups and a month to go that meant six cycles of his timetable. He hoped that that would be enough; he didn't want to be too far behind.

Studying one subject for a whole day could be boring, but in order to make any headway he wanted to study one thing for a few hours at a time. Grouping the subjects with one for the morning and one for the afternoon allowed for a change of pace, but also the studying of related subjects together. The groupings were:

Transfiguration and Charms

Potions and Herbology

Astronomy and History of Magic

Defence Against the Dark Arts and Voldemort/War

Finance, Law and Wizarding Government

After his experience of being locked away for days at a time, Harry knew that he needed a change of scenery every now and then. So after having an early breakfast he would walk around Diagon Alley just as the shops were opening. That allowed him to explore the nearly empty shops with little chance of causing a scene. He had taken Tom's lesson on blending into the background to heart, though not sure that it would be that bad, he didn't want to chance anything. He was determined to stay in control of his new life.

With that all figured out he decided on a timetable that allowed him plenty of time to eat, sleep and explore Diagon Alley. To his surprise this also left him with plenty of time to study!

0630 – 0700 Get up, shower

0700 – 0800 Breakfast, prepare for the day

0800 – 0900 Exploring Diagon Alley, shopping, AOB

0900 – 1300 1st subject

1300 – 1400 Lunch

1400 – 1800 2nd subject

1800 – 1900 Dinner

1900 – 2100 R'n'R

2100 – 0630 Sleep

o0O0o

The first of September dawned bright and early, and Harry with good intentions of taking the day easy had decided to have a lie in. Which is, of course, why he was wide awake at six in the morning. Blaming Sod's Law, he gave up and decided to have a long shower instead. After finishing his ablutions and packing away the rest of his things Harry made his way downstairs for his last breakfast at The Leaky Cauldron. A large breakfast later he picked up the packed lunch from the kitchens and after settling up with Tom made his way back upstairs.

Praising whoever invented the bottomless school bag he tucked away his packed lunch into one section while browsing through his books to pick a few for the ride to Hogwarts. Knowing that they left at 1100 and didn't arrive at Hogwarts until the evening feast, meant that he had to keep himself entertained for around seven hours. Choosing a few of his going away books he received from his teachers at Dunhill Primary made him realise all that had happened in the last six weeks. A lifetime indeed. Taking with him the _Standard Book of Spells (Grade One)_, _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_ and _Magical Drafts and Potions_. At least if he got board he could randomly test himself on the wand movement and incantation for a spell or the ingredients and procedure to make a particular potion.

After reorganising his first trunk compartment three times, checked his carryon bag twice and played with his never ending library (Looking for "Books with the letter Z in the title") he finally decided it was time to go. Checking his room one last time and after giving Hedwig the option to fly herself or to be carried in her cage (one look at the cage and she was out of the window before he had finished asking), he placed her cage and perch into the as of now empty fourth compartment of his trunk.

Carefully carrying his trunk down the stairs he faced the fireplace in the main bar. Holding his trunk close, he threw a handful of floo powder into the fire and watched as it turned green. After taking a deep breath he stepped into the fire and said

"Platform Nine and Three Quarters."

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**AN: In this story I decided that Blood Wards based on a love sacrifice need love to work. As such there are no such wards and the instruments Dumbledore has in his office are for existing wards on Privet Drive (same as they have been for the past 10 years) and health of Harry (better as of late). Flitwick reported nothing unusual and the Dursleys aren't going to say anything, in fact they probably have already moved. For these reasons Dumbledore has no idea that Harry has left Privet Drive, and Harry isn't about to tell him! One of Dumbledore's worst faults is that he **_**assumes**_** he knows everything. **


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: Thank you again to all those who have reviewed, especially pointing out any mistakes and commenting on the future aspects of this fic. I know this is short and it's been a long time since I updated. My apologies, uni has just started again and it took a while to get back into the swing of things. I hope to have another update by tomorrow, I just wanted to get this one done and posted. Parts that you recognise has been taken from HP – PS.**

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Harry spun, trying to keep his balance he remembered Tom's advise not to focus too much on the intervening fireplaces but to focus on the view of a platform in his mind. He slowly spun to a stop and he stepped smartly out of the fireplace when saw the empty platform before him.

A scarlet steam engine was waiting next to the platform puffing small clouds of steam with a few people mingling around the engine, no doubt preparing the train for the long journey. He supposed that the journey was for people to mingle and get to know each other before reaching Hogwarts, allowing for a sort of transition between home and school. Otherwise he couldn't see a reason for a society that had the ability to travel almost instantaneously from one place to another to use such a time intensive method of travelling.

Harry moved out of the way of the fireplace to clear the way for others. Pulling his trunk behind him he walked towards the train. A sign overhead said _Hogwarts' Express, eleven o'clock_. Harry saw a young looking couple with a student, first year by the looks of her; appear through a wrought-iron archway where he guessed the barrier to Kings Cross was. On closer inspection he realised that the student was probably a muggle-born, further confirmed be the wide eyed expressions of disbelief on the adults faces combined by the hyped excitement on the girl's.

Steam billowed from the engine and drifted between clumps of people appearing from nowhere, literally nowhere. Harry quickly walked towards the front of the carriages. Experience with Dudley meant that he knew kids would be less likely to cause trouble around people of authority. Taking the third compartment from the front right next to the prefect compartments would hopefully reduce any trouble, he didn't want to make a bad impression and in his experience confirming guilt was never really an issue.

Settling down, once again thankful for the feather light charms on his trunk that allowed him to store it without difficulty, he picked up _Magical Drafts and Potions _and mentally listed ingredients, preparations and instructions for each potion then checking himself against the book.

A while later the crowd outside the window had increased. Different looking people were all mixed up all trying to get their children on the train before they were too late while simultaneously hugging and fussing, delaying at the same time. Children were calling over the heads of the crowd greeting friends and discussing their summer, while cats of every colour wound here and there between their legs and owls hooted to one another in a disgruntled sort of way over the babble and the scraping of heavy trunks. Glad that he had let Hedwig fly on her own, Harry started people watching.

A good pastime, especially when keeping away from the Dursleys notice, people watching allowed him to observe the different behaviour of his peers and their parents. There was a large variety, from aristocratic blank faces politely wishing each other well to manic clutching from parents and children alike. There were the older students blasé at the situation, to the teary eyed first year and the bewildered faces of the muggle parents with some (probably) purebloods edging away from them.

The carriages started to become packed with students; some were hanging out of the window to talk to their families, some fighting over seats. Harry saw an elderly lady with a first year as they passed his window. The round-faced boy was slightly frantic, looking though his pockets.

"Gran, I've lost my toad again."

"Oh, _Neville_," he heard the old woman sigh. They moved on, as did his attention focusing on a boy with dreadlocks who was surrounded by a small crowd.

"Give us a look, Lee, go on." The boy lifted the lid of a box in his arms, and the people around him shrieked and yelled as something inside poked out a long, hairy leg.

"Fred? George? Are you there?" A red haired woman stood on the platform with a young girl and boy, both with the same shade of red hair by her side.

"Coming, Mom."

This came from a pair of twins disengaging themselves from the group surrounding Lee who had moved towards the train to find an empty carriage. With a last look at the box, the twins moved in tandem, boggling the mind's eye with their symmetry. Starting to feel a slight pang at the sight of so many children with loving families he tracked the red headed twins. Their mother had just taken out her handkerchief.

"Ron, you've got something on your nose." The youngest boy tried to jerk out of the way, but she grabbed him and began rubbing the end of his nose.

"Mom, geroff."

He wriggled free, embarrassed at the display of mothering. Harry was slightly jealous and wondered at the boy's attitude, if it were him he would be warm with the feeling of love emanating from the woman who obviously loved them all, never mind their number. What followed was the normal sibling rivalry he had observed among his peers at Dunhill. Teasing and even a slight mocking, but seeped in love from their parents, they would stand together no matter what.

There was a mad rush of students and parents when the warning whistle sounded. A minute later the train began to move. Last words and cries of 'I love you's' and 'be goods' were shouted and Harry saw the twin's mother waving and their sister, half laughing, half crying, running to keep up with the train until it gathered too much speed, then she fell back and waved. He watched as the girl and her mother disappeared as the train rounded the corner. Houses flashed past the window. Harry felt a wave of excitement cover the burn of missing having a family to call his own. He didn't know what he was going to — but it had to be better than what he was leaving behind.

Harry settled down and pulled his book to him. Before he could immerse himself again there was a knock on the door to his compartment.

"May I join you?" A resigned voice said.

The chubby faced boy, who had lost his toad and had been seen off by his grandmother was in the doorway looking like he was expecting to be rebuffed. The disappointed and yet slightly defiant posture he was displaying was familiar to Harry. That had been him not long ago. Trying to interact with his peers but knowing he would be sent away and ridiculed, and the strength of character that was needed to try anyway.

"Sure, I'd like some company. I'm Harry Potter, here let me help?"

As he said this Harry had gotten up from his seat and helped bring the other boys trunk into the compartment. With a little back and forth they were able to stow it away. It also had a feather light charm which rather weak, but still it was rather bulky.

"Neville Longbottom. Thank you." _For helping with the trunk and for letting me sit with you. _

The last unsaid but understood anyway. They had settled in across from each other and a silence descended. Harry was glad that aside from a slight eyebrow raise at his name there had been no other reaction.

"So what house do you want to go into?"

"Well my Grandmother wants me to go into Gryffindor like my father, but I doubt if I will. Not brave enough I guess. I would be happy with Hufflepuff, I'm just glad I got in. My family thought I was a squib for so long." Self depreciating, insecure and bashful. Having found a kindred soul, one that didn't mesh well with their peers, he replied with equal honesty.

"I'd like Ravenclaw. I've met the head of house and he's great, and I love to read and learn so it's probably the best fit. Unfortunately after reading what's been published about me, the public seem to see me as this heroic figure, which is silly, as they don't even know me just what the papers have said. And, correct me if I'm wrong, but I've seemed to have been portrayed as the quintessential Gryffindor. Heroically brave and self sacrificing. The Boy-Who-Lived. Do you know how they sort students? Professor Flitwick wouldn't say." Neville smiled.

"No. Everyone I've asked said it's a rite of passage. And yes you are right about what people will expect of you."

"Great, not in this world two months and already I have people expecting certain things from me. Well Professor Flitwick did say that we were sorted on our abilities and personalities, I just hope that this reputation won't affect that."

"I see your reading ahead." Nodding to the book at Harry's side "That's very Ravenclaw of you."

"I just want to keep up, I mean being brought up in the muggle world I've never even heard of some of these plants, and though potions could be considered like chemistry, subjects like Transfiguration don't have their equivalents. When I first started reading my text books I had to keep referring to _Wizarding Work of Words_ for definitions. Longbottom's a old family name so you're a pureblood?" At Neville's nod he continued . "Which means that as much studying as I have done you are probably still way ahead, just by living in this world."

"Maybe, but I'm sure you'll catch up quickly. How about a trade, we can help each other. I know about some of the old Wizarding traditions and the like, I'm also pretty good at Herbology, and you could help me with other things, especially if you get into Ravenclaw?"

At that moment another student knocked on the door. It slid open and the muggleborn he had seen with her parents arriving on the station via the barrier was standing there slightly red in the face from pulling her trunk.

"Can I join you?" A slightly bossy yet nervous voice asked.

The girl had bushy brown hair and slightly large front teeth. At the moment they were chewing on her bottom lip. It seemed that on this trip, like attracted like.

"Sure. Here let us help with that." With Neville's help another trunk was placed in the racks and they all sat down to look at each other.

"Hermione Granger. Um I'm muggleborn, it was ever so much a surprise when I found out about magic and Hogwarts" All this was said in one breath, rushed and expectant.

"Neville Longbottom."

"Harry Potter." And the expected reaction occurred.

"Are you really? I've read all about you…"

"I'm in _Modern Magical History, Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_. I'm also mentioned in a few others but they are the main ones. I see you like reading ahead?"

"Oh yes, I've learnt all the set books by heart and I got some extra reading to help as well, I just don't want to be left behind those who have lived with magic all their lives."

"I don't think we'll be too far behind in lessons, from what I've read they start out the first year at a basic level and go along at the slowest pace. It's all the other stuff I'm worried about. But don't place too much credence on what those books say. Some of them seem to be written with the purpose to sell copies. I mean, of the four people in the house that night, three of them are dead. Since I was not yet talking, and I don't remember giving any interviews afterwards, I think they have to be taken with a little bit of salt."

"Oh … well yes, I never really thought about that. Do you mean that all of the books are that inaccurate?" A worried expression crossed her face, as if the thought that books could not be relied upon was of utmost significance.

"Well they seem to be able to print things much more freely, stating speculation as fact, more that the muggle press, but I'm sure that they are accurate to some point. I see a lot of cross referencing is in our future. So do you think you'll be in Ravenclaw then?" This generated a small smile from the girl and a nervous smile.

"Either Gryffindor or Ravenclaw, not really too sure. I think both could be fun. How about you?"

And what followed was the usual getting to know each other conversation. Nothing very remarkable, nothing to really remember except that it was the start of a friendship that would last years.

The train slowed as it entered the station. Having already changed into their school uniform the three of them packed up their carryon bags and checked for any left items. Locating Trevor under a pile of Chocolate Frog wrappings they settled down ready to leave and peered through the window and into the dark surrounding Hogsmeade station and the village.

A disembodied voice echoed throughout the train compartment. "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train; it will be taken to the school separately."

Harry's stomach lurched with nerves and looking at his two companions they didn't seem any better. As the train jerked to a stop they made their way out of the compartment and joined the crowd waiting in the corridor. The train slowed right down and then finally stopped. After no small amount of pushing and shoving they made it out on to a tiny, dark platform. Harry shivered in the cold night air and wrapped his robe around him. Grateful of the extra money he had spent to have climate charms woven throughout through the material.

A lamp came bobbing over the heads of the students towards the end of the station accompanied by a loud booming voice.

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here! All right there? C'mon, follow me — any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!"

A large man whose face was surrounded by bushy hair and beard emerged from the darkness. Once all the first years had clustered around him and the platform emptied of all the other students he turned and made his way down a steep and narrow path. Trying not to slip on the wet stones they followed the man down the path closed in on all sides by thick trees. Nobody spoke much and the three of them kept close. The trees on either side caused everything to be in darkness that not even the lantern permeated.

"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," the man called over his shoulder, "jus' round this bend here."

The narrow path had opened suddenly onto the edge of a great black lake, it's surface rippling and reflecting the moon whose light helped them see the castle. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was Hogwarts castle built in a non uniform design with many turrets and towers breaking up its lines.

"No more'n four to a boat!" pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore.

There was a loud "Oooooh!" from the majority of the students at their first sight of their school for the next seven years. Keeping his composure at the sight of the castle Harry helped Hermione into the first free boat and then held it steady for Neville. Once they were both settled he joined them. At an "Everyone in?" from their guide who had a boat to himself, the word of command was given and the boats glided forward under their own power.

The castle towered over them as they approached the cliff face. Ducking their heads to avoid a curtain of ivy they found themselves travelling through a pitch black tunnel, the lantern bobbing in front of them providing enough light for them to see the corresponding harbour underneath the school. After disembarking and a trip up another slippery stone path they found themselves standing on a large lawn that led up towards the huge oak doors.

With his large fist the man knocked three times on the heavy wooden doors, the sound reverberating through the silent night air.

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**AN: I am, unusually for me, posting a chapter once it is written with only vague ideas on what will happen next. Saying that, I would love any input you suggest. Now with all the reading Harry has done, I'm portraying him as much more knowledgeable about the Wizarding World so there won't be long winded explanations of words such as squib, pureblood/mudblood and the like. Especially as I think most readers already know such things and don't wish to read such things over and over again.**


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed. I loved some of the comments that really got me thinking about different aspects I hadn't yet considered. So, thanks again and enjoy.**

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The oak doors parted before them, revealing a dark haired woman waiting. Dressed in dark red robes she had a stern expression on her face, one that Harry decided was to impress upon the new students that she was not someone to cross.

"The firs' years Professor McGonagall."

"Thank you, Hagrid." So that was the large man's name.

Hagrid nodded and walked past the newly introduced Professor McGonagall and made his way towards the rumbling noise that was the rest of the school. Noting that the other students had to have come a different and quicker way, Harry decided to file that under his questions to ask later. Following Professor McGonagall, she led them through the large entrance hall that could easily have fit a large house inside, and into a side room off what he deduced was the main hall.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," started Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term feast will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room. The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards.

"While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours. The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

Her eyes lingered for a moment on Harry's hair, on Neville's outer robe, which was fastened under his left ear, and the red haired boy from the platform who still had a black smudge on his nose. Harry knowing it wouldn't do any good didn't even try and flatten his hair, it would just end up messier. Maybe he could find some magic fix, as no muggle spray, lotion or grooming tactic had ever done anything to help.

"I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly." She then left the chamber, closing the door firmly behind her, the sound echoed in the relatively small room. Slowly a buzz of conversation started.

Standing together in a group, the majority of the first years were looking around in wide eyed wonder. Determined not to make a spectacle of himself Harry focused on the nervous looking Neville and the slightly hyper form of Hermione. Focusing on his friends made him realise that no matter what happened nothing could be as bad as going back to the Dursleys. Turning to Neville who had become rather ruffled after a slip on the stone path, Harry adjusted Neville's robe and tried to smooth his friends' nerves at the same time. But the talk around him wasn't helping any, it even seemed to get to the confident Hermione.

As if they would have to fight trolls. It clearly stated in _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them _and_ The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection _that trolls were extremely resilient to magic and rather tough to injure. Hard enough for a fully grown wizard to deal with, let alone new first years that even hadn't had a single lesson. Repeating his thoughts out loud he got a small nod from Neville with a subtle straitening of the back and shoulders. Hermione looked at him, stopped in the middle of repeating spell incantations and stared.

"I didn't think of that, it would be kind of silly to put us in such a situation."

"Yeah, it wouldn't be much of a school if they didn't have any students now would it?" Harry joked, rather lamely he thought, but he got a few nervous smiles from the students around him. One such student, a boy with white blond hair, was scrutinising him just a little too closely for comfort. Luckily something happened then to distract them all.

"What the —?" someone gasped. And even Harry who had expected it, had even thought himself ready to experience such things in the magical world was momentarily shocked. About twenty or so ghosts had just streamed through the back wall.

Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to one another and hardly glancing at the first years. They seemed to be arguing. A rather kind looking ghost in a Franciscan habit seemed to be the peace keeper.

"Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance —"

"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost — I say, what are you all doing here?" A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first years. Nobody answered.

"New students!" said the Friar, smiling around at them. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?" A few people nodded mutely.

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the Friar. "My old house, you know."

"Please move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."

Professor McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall.

"Now, form a line," Professor McGonagall told the first years, "and then follow me."

Fighting the rising feeling of panic he let both Neville and Hermione pass in front of him before following after them. Following one by one they walked out of the chamber, back across the entrance hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.

Even after reading _Hogwarts: A History_ Harry had never even imagined such a strange and splendid place, truly an example of words not being able to do justice to some things. The huge hall in front of them was huge, reminding Harry of the inside of a church it was lit by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in midair over four long tables. The rest of the students were sitting here with their houses, the house identities much more obvious en masse than it was on the train.

These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall led the first years up there, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them. The ghosts shone misty silver, interspersed among the black robed students as they were.

Mainly to avoid all the staring eyes, both dead and alive, Harry looked upward and saw a velvety black ceiling dotted with stars. Bewitched to look like the sky outside, it would be hard to believe there was a ceiling there at all, and that the Great Hall didn't simply open on to the heavens, if not for the tingle of magic that he sensed. The feeling started small but then grew until it almost overwhelmed him. Once he had started 'sensing' magic it seemed as if his head might just overload what with the ceiling, enchanted candles and the presence of that many magic users in one place.

Hoping he would get acclimatised as time went on; Harry turned his attention to Professor McGonagall as she silently placed a four-legged stool in front of them. On top of the stool she put a pointed wizard's hat. This hat was patched and frayed, extremely dirty and had a strong magical aura surrounding it.

For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth — and the hat began to sing:

"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty, but don't judge on what you see, I'll eat myself if you can find a smarter hat than me. You can keep your bowlers black, your top hats sleek and tall, for I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat and I can cap them all. There's nothing hidden in your head The Sorting Hat can't see, so try me on and I will tell you where you ought to be. You might belong in Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart, their daring, nerve, and chivalry set Gryffindors apart; you might belong in Hufflepuff, where they are just and loyal, those patient Hufflepuffs are true and unafraid of toil; or yet in wise old Ravenclaw, if you've a ready mind, where those of wit and learning, will always find their kind; or perhaps in Slytherin you'll make your real friends, those cunning folk use any means to achieve their ends. So put me on! Don't be afraid! And don't get in a flap! You're in safe hands (though I have none) for I'm a Thinking Cap!"

The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again, Professor McGonagall then stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!"

Thinking that this would be as good an opportunity as any to learn his year mates names he concentrated on putting faces to names and once sorted, their house. In doing so Harry noticed, that the hat sometimes shouted out the house straight away but with others it took time to make a decision. "Finnigan, Seamus," the sandy-haired boy behind Harry in the line, sat on the stool for almost a whole minute before the hat declared him a Gryffindor.

"Granger, Hermione!" Hermione calmly walked up to the stool and with a deep breath placed the hat on her head. A short while later a smile blossomed on her face followed by the hat announcing its decision.

"RAVENCLAW" Hermione handed the hat to the next student and waved at Harry and Neville before joining the table seated under the eagle banner.

Neville was finally called and the hat took quite a long time with him. Wondering what was going on Harry observed Neville's face and body language hoping for some clue. It started out nervous, like all the others which was then followed by a rather sad expression, a frown, a wry smile, a slight nod and straightening of the posture before the hat shouting

"RAVENCLAW"

Grinning and mouthing "Good luck" Neville went and joined Hermione at the Ravenclaw table.

The boy who had been staring at Harry before the sorting was identified as "Malfoy, Draco". The swagger and the fact that the hat had barely touched his head when it screamed, "SLYTHERIN!" made Harry uneasy. Trying not to let prejudices stand in his way, he nevertheless resolved to be on his guard around the offspring of one of Voldemort's Death Eaters.

And then, at last "Potter, Harry!"

As Harry stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out all over the hall. Trying not to sigh or roll his eyes, Harry controlled his expression while trying to block out the whispers that were getting loader and louder.

"Potter, did she say?"

"The Harry Potter?"

Noticing Professor Flitwick at the staff table for the first time he offered the man a small smile which was returned before he sat down and let the hat close off his view of the hall.

"_Hmm,"_ said a small voice in his ear. _"Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, oh yes — and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that's interesting… So where shall I put you?"_

Harry, rather startled at the voice projected into his mind took a wild guess and decided to speak back in his mind as well. Goodness knows that the other students were rather too interested in his sorting, and he didn't want t give them more to talk about.

"_Um well, I'd like Ravenclaw, I love learning and my friends are there, but I didn't think we actually got a choice?"_

"_Oh yes, yes you always have a choice Mr Potter never forget that. Hmm, not Gryffindor? For that is where you're expected to go. Ah, but I see your distaste for placating strangers expectations. Or perhaps Slytherin, you could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that — no? Hmm, yes I suppose you would have a hard time due to your history. How about Hufflepuff, that'll shock them all out of their socks? Ah, but then you dislike the spotlight don't you? No, you're probably right, best for you to be in … _RAVENCLAW!"

The hat shouted the last word to the whole hall. He took off the hat and walked shakily toward the Ravenclaw table. He was so relieved to have had his wishes consulted for once, especially in a decision so life altering as his place in the school for the next seven years, that he almost missed the reaction his sorting had garnered.

There was a second of silence filled with confused looks. Then the Ravenclaws started clapping and cheering, slow at first but gathering in speed and noise. Trying to limit the spectacle, he made his way to the seat opposite Hermione and Neville, both who were on their feet clapping loudly. On his way he took in the reaction of the Gryffindor table. Quite a few of them were clapping, admittedly it was half hearted at best, while the rest of them were whispering and sporting confused and in some cases hurt looks. Determined not to let others expectations bother him he was glad to see that the Hufflepuffs were true to their nature and kindly clapping him. The Slytherins, well, most of them had shrewd looks on their faces, probably wondering the significance of Harry Potter: Boy-Who-Lived going against the grain.

Finally gaining his seat he accepted the congratulations of his year mates and a few of the older students before resolutely turning his attention back on to the sorting as if nothing in the world was out of the ordinary. Professor McGonagall looked a little shocked but she hid it after a moment, and carried on.

Once attention had drifted away from him, he glanced up at the teachers table to find a happy Flitwick giving him a small nod. Returning it, he then gazed along the table trying to familiarise himself with the faces. The headmaster, Albus Dumbledore was easy to spot and had a speculative expression on his face, which was quickly masked when he saw he was being watched. A female professor with blonde curly hair and slightly dirtied robes; Professor Flitwick with his chair altered for his small frame; a lady with lots of bangles and shawls staring dreamily at nothing; a male professor with a purple turban out of place even among the differing attire of the professors. Hagrid he noticed was situated at end and a dark haired professor with a large nose sat at the other. This professor, seated as he was in front of the Slytherin table was probably Professor Snape, Potions Master of Hogwarts. And head of Slytherin. As if feeling eyes upon him Snape turned from the ongoing sorting to inspect Harry.

A true Slytherin, no expression showed on his pale face but the eyes held a burning intensity that belied strong emotion. Suddenly, knowing that he was at a turning point, that the next few seconds could change everything, Harry allowed his respect to show and gave a slow head nod towards the Professor. Surprise flickered, and then disappeared. Not completely sure, but Harry thought he may have seen a small incline of the head returned, before being distracted by the Headmaster standing to address the students.

"Welcome," he said beaming, arms wide open. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!" He sat back down. Everybody clapped and cheered and Harry wasn't sure whether to laugh or not.

A rush of magic and food appeared on the tables from out of nowhere. Well, somewhere else in the castle probably. Harry wondered how long it would be until he started thinking as a magic user would. Though it would probably be a while, he was determined to find the right sort of balance.

There was no point in dragging a heavy trunk around if you could apply a feather weight charm, or even shrink it and put it in a pocket. But then again, muggle paper and pens seemed a much easier and sensible way of doing things as well. So, balance would be the main aspect of living in this world, if he were to remain true to himself. Promising to continue keeping up with his muggle contemporaries in the summer, Harry helped himself to a large portion of the roast chicken in front of him. His packed lunch and the pasties from the snack trolley had been hours ago.

After several helpings of the main meal and a big slice of treacle tart for desert Harry was feeling rather full and sleepy. He had known when he received his Hogwarts letter that things were going to change, but now he was safe from the Dursleys, had made good friends with Neville and Hermione and gotten to know his other housemates, all of whom were rather nice and welcoming, and he had just had a rather satisfying meal. He was really rather content with his lot.

At last, the desserts too disappeared, and Headmaster Dumbledore got to his feet again, the hall falling silent.

"Ahem — just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well." Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Gryffindor table and Harry saw the two red headed twins from the platform grinning at each other.

"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch. And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death." This pronouncement was met with a few nervous chuckles from some of the younger students and confused looks from the older ones.

Once dismissed Harry followed the Ravenclaw prefect, Penelope (call me Penny) Clearwater, out of the Great Hall and down a corridor. Up five flights of the main stairs and along another corridor they approached what must have been an entrance to the West Tower that housed the Ravenclaw students. A tightly winding spiral staircase led up to a wide landing that was bare except for a solid looking wooden door. Still slightly muddled from the feast, it took Harry a while to notice that the door had neither a handle, nor any other method of entry. Its only adornment was a bronze knocker in the shape of an eagle.

Turning towards the eagle Penny reached out and firmly knocked once. The beak of the eagle opened and a soft, musical voice said, "Some try to hide, some try to cheat, but time will show, we will always meet. Try as you might to guess my name, I'll promise you'll know, when you I do claim. Who am I?"

"As you can see, in the tradition of Ravenclaw House and its emphasis on learning, to access the common room you must first answer the riddle posed to you. So, any ideas?"

Harry looked around and found confused and some slightly panicked faces, even Hermione looked puzzled. Looking back to the prefect he saw she had a slightly amused expression on her face. The answer being obvious to him he addressed the eagle.

"You're Death."

"Correct. Well done, well done indeed."

The eagle then morphed back into inanimate bronze and the door swung open. A shocked Penny gestured to the first years to pass through the now open door, and then followed behind them.

The common room had a few stragglers of older students catching up with friends. The slow pace they had taken due to short legs had allowed for the rest of the house to precede them. Looking around, Harry saw what was to be his home for the next seven years.

Traditionally decorated in the Ravenclaw's house colours the room was wide, circular, and very airy, with a domed ceiling painted with stars, and walls with graceful arched windows that would provide excellent views of the castle grounds. Blue and bronze silk wall hangings and a midnight-blue carpet, also decorated with stars, added colour and softened the numerous bookcases, tables and chairs all made from matching dark wood. Four fireplaces were evenly spaced around the room to provide heat, with comfortable looking chairs and sofas arranged in semi circles before them. Between these seating areas were tables of differing sizes obviously there for school work, with holes for ink pots and hanging floating candelabras above to provide good light. Opposite the entrance was another door that he presumed led to the dormitories.

"Tomorrow after dinner Professor Flitwick will hold a house meeting for the first years here in the common room. He will tell you what will be expected of you and will address any questions you may have. Breakfast starts at 7:30 and finishes at 9. However you will need to be at breakfast by eight tomorrow to receive your timetables and have time to find your way around the castle. Now I will lead you to your rooms for you to get some sleep."

Saying that, she led them through the door Harry had noticed earlier, and pointed them to the first years dormitories. The girls' room was the first door on the right the boys' a little further down on the left. Saying goodnight to Hermione, Harry and Neville entered their room followed by the two other first year boys.

Roughly triangle shaped, the room was obviously a section of the circular tower. The walls spreading outward from the door to a curved outer wall. Four canopy beds were spaced along the curved wall with their trunks placed at the foot. Between the beds were bedside tables, above which were windows. On their entrance, candles fixed to the wall had ignited, and provided a soft glow by which to see by. Too tired to do more than say goodnight, Harry opened his trunk and changed for bed.

Sinking into the soft mattress he pulled the heavy duvet around him to ward off the chill and fell asleep listening to the sounds of his roommates preparing for bed.


	8. Chapter 8

Harry awoke to the sun streaming into his bed through gaps in the hangings. Looking through the curtains to the bed next to him he could see that Neville was stirring. Getting up he grabbed his toiletries and made his way to the communal bathroom.

Refreshed and awake Harry entered the dormitory just as Neville was leaving. Glancing at the time he realised that the others should start getting up. Making his way to the other two beds he quietly called their names.

"Anthony? Terry? It's time to get up."

"Uh, a few more minutes Mum." Was all the reply he received, mumbled from the bed to his right.

"Um guys, you're going to be late to the first class if you don't get up soon?" Yep, that was the right way to do it.

"What?" Two bed hanging were almost ripped apart as the two occupants almost threw themselves out of bed and out into the hallway. Laughing to himself Harry opened the fifth compartment of his trunk and pulled up the wardrobe. It seemed that sometime during the night someone had changed his uniform. Instead of the School Crest and Colours his robes were now adorned with the Ravenclaw crest, a golden eagle on a blue field, the same as the banner above the Ravenclaw table and his tie and trim were now coloured blue and bronze.

Unsure as to how this had happened with the security placed on his trunk, he added that to the list of questions adding up in his head. It was getting to be quite the list. Smiling at the 'keep neat' charms placed on the wardrobe Harry pulled out a fresh shirt, the one he wore yesterday had disappeared (another thing to ask about), and dressed for the day.

Unsure as to which books he would need, and conscious of there not being time to return to the dormitory after breakfast, Harry closed down the fifth compartment and opened the first. There laid out were all his school supplies just as he had left them. They didn't even seem disturbed by the journey.

He pulled out the clear pencil case with his fountain pen, highlighters and pencils and placed it in the front zip compartment of his school bag. Next went in his main organiser with enough separators for each class. He made sure it was stocked with enough lined paper and plastic folders. Just in case he had some really troublesome teachers he added a roll of parchment and an ever inking quill.

Checking that Neville also had everything ready they headed down to the common room to meet up with Hermione.

"Morning Hermione"

"Good morning Harry, Neville. Where are your room mates?"

"Just got up. Yours?"

"Up hours ago. At first I thought that they were getting a head start on the day, you know a spot of revision before classes start? But no, apparently no Ravenclaw is late for classes, but no self respecting girl can go out in public until an hour has been spent on primping each morning! I wouldn't mind except they were so noisy. And I doubt if anyone will notice that Lisa's hair is completely straight or that Morag's hair bobble is colour coordinated with her stationary."

"You're kidding?"

"I wish I was. You remember the way to the Great Hall? I was so tired last night I can't remember."

"Sure. So which classes are you hoping for today?"

"Hmm, Transfiguration looks like fun."

"Only you would pick the class with the hardest theory. Well looks like you'll be helping us all out with Transfiguration. I've read all the books and everything, but I'm not sure I _know_, you know?"

"You know the material but don't truly understand the theory?"

"Yep, how about you Neville?"

"I, well I'm not sure I'm going to be any good at the magical classes, like I said yesterday, I grew up thinking I was a squib and classes like Transfiguration and Charms apparently need a lot of magical power. I'm looking forward to Herbology though. We have our own greenhouse at home, and I always liked taking care of the plants with our gardener."

"I'm sure you'll be fine Neville. And since you've got a head start on Herbology you can help me and Hermione. Something tells me you can only learn so much about that subject from books."

The three of them made their way into the Hall just as the food appeared on the table tops. Different from the platters of food at dinner the night before, there were small collections of food interspersed along the length of the table with plates and cutlery stacked next to them. Looking at some early rising older students, prefects by the looks of them, they were meant to serve themselves and then find a place to sit.

Neville, Hermione and Harry all served themselves large portions of the English Breakfast. It was the first day and they were going to need their energy. Sitting down near a group of older students the three of them tucked in while quietly observing the goings on. Half asleep students dragged in by their friends, some students scribbling away at forgotten summer homework, old friends catching up. There were many different types of interaction going on and was food for Harry's people observations.

The school clock tower chimed the hour and the Head of Houses made their way down from the head table to deliver timetables, first years first. Looking at the timetable Harry was rather pleased. Breakfast was from 0730 to 0900, Lunch from 1300 to 1400 and dinner from 1800 to 1900. Each subject had one double and one single period each week, with most of them spread out. The midnight Astronomy lesson on Wednesdays was a bit of a shock but luckily Thursdays didn't start until 1200. Throughout the week were gaps of an hour or two in the day in which homework could be completed, freeing up spare time at the weekends and evenings for extra studying and relaxation.

At half eight the prefect that had shown them the way to the common room last night gathered all the first years together, and after ascertaining what class they had first (Charms), led them out of the great hall towards the classroom. Along the way she made a point to highlight other classrooms of interest and explain the best routes between each of them. (Stick to the main staircases, they still move, but it's easier to figure out where they are taking you, and they take you to the expected floor - unlike the stairs in the north wing that randomly takes you to different floors on different days of the week.)

After being shown into the Charms classroom Penny left them to get to her own class on time. The classroom was like an old lecturing hall. Tiered seats in a horseshoe layout, and a teacher's desk where a podium might stand. They took the front row of seats, all eager to start their first magic lesson.

Taking out his pencil case and notebook, Harry arranged his things and made sure he was ready for the start of class. Looking up to the confused, and some incredulous, stares of his peers he shrugged his shoulders and waited for Professor Flitwick who duly arrived.

The first half hour was taken up by having the class outlined and included the topics they would cover, what work they would be doing and the mark scheme. After that and an hour of taking introductory notes on the properties of charms, the pros and cons and their uses, the class finally were able to practise their first bit of magic.

Wingardium Leviosa, with a swish and flick motion. One of the most basic charms, the levitation charm was the most commonly used charm in practise and had many uses. After a stern warning _not_ to use it on people (especially the injured), they were then handed feathers with the instruction to make them float a foot off the table.

Partnered with Hermione, Harry swished and flicked, and nothing happened. Shrugging he handed it to Hermione who after a deep breath gently hovered her feather above the table top. Wondering why it didn't work for him, he hadn't even felt any magic when he tried, he tried the motion again allowing the magic to flow down his arm and he imagined the feather rising up off the table. Not looking at where he had pointed, and not realising that an incantation was always necessary Harry was rather surprised when his text book began floating right in front of him.

Slowly rising his wand he was disappointed when the book didn't move. Just as he was about to look around the room to see who had levitated his book, he remembered one crucial detail of what he had just done. Turning back to the book, Harry pictured in his mind his wand moving and the book rising. Copying the movement with his actual wand Harry felt the tingling down his arm and the book began rising.

"Mr Potter? How... How did you do that?" Professor Flitwick, who was rather jolly at times seemed shocked.

Wondering what he had done wrong, Harry explained, and after repeating it for the professor (and half the class) Professor Flitwick moved to the front.

"Now class. We have covered the importance of pronouncing the incantation properly and the reasons for particular wand movements. What Mr Potter here has just demonstrated, is that there is another component to spell casting. The visualisation of the effect you wish to create is also important. For simple spells like levitating a feather, the wand movements and incantation is enough to produce the levitation effect. However as you continue your studies, you may wish to keep in mind that the visualisation of the result is also a useful tool with the more difficult spells and with non-verbal casting. The self belief is a very important factor in the successful weaving of magic."

This left most of the class stunned. They were all Ravenclaws, and as such, had all read through the course book, if not all the supplementals as well. And nowhere was there any mention of visualisation. When questioned about this Flitwick smiled.

"This would normally be in my speech that I was going to give you tonight after dinner. Ravenclaws are known as the intelligent house, the ones with their heads in the books and get the best grades. And while this is true, it is also rather stereotypical. Like saying that only Hufflepuffs are loyal. A Gryffindor also can be loyal, and a Hufflepuff can be brave. You were sorted by one of the major facets of your characters, but it doesn't mean that that is all there is to you."

"Now Ravenclaws. Yes, I expect you to do well in your classes but intelligence is not just about learning the material as rote from the books. It will enable you to pass exams but you will never actually learn the material if you don't understand it."

"As you spend more time among the others of the house, you will see many of the older students questioning the established facts. It was actually a Ravenclaw that made a startling breakthrough in her seventh year. The Class One warding spells were thought to be so old, that they had to be performed verbally, that a non-verbal casting would not allow for a ward to be cast successfully. This student disproved that theory, which had been accepted as rote for many years, just because no one thought to test it."

"The lesson I am trying to impact is that Hogwarts offers you many facilities to learn, but that the most powerful is your own brain. Now we seem to have overrun slightly. You should practise the charm for Thursday and if everyone can cast successfully we will move on to the unlocking charm, Alohomora. Quickly now you don't want to be late for Herbology."

The class quickly packed away and headed for the door. Harry acted as normal in response to his classmates questioning glances, decidedly not noticing the probing look Professor Flitwick was sending his way.

Herbology was only one hour long, and they were taken on a tour of Greenhouses One and Two by Professor Sprout. They found out where the fertiliser was stored, where the equipment was etc. etc. A slightly boring start to the class but Sprout promised that the double class on Wednesday would be for practical work. Quickly jotting down the class outlines and homework, they were able to head back up to the castle for lunch early.

Finding that lunch was a mixture of hot meals, with sandwiches and sides. The Ravenclaw first years sat down as a group and served themselves food. Sitting across from Su Li Harry struck up a conversation with her about DADA. The other first years taking this as a signal all started to mingle with each other. Harry didn't know it yet, but he had started to become the leader of their year group.

Defence against the Dark Arts sounded exciting, interesting and possibly a little dangerous. Unfortunately that was not the case. Professor Quirrell was a thin man, rather top heavy due to his purple turban, and had an unfortunate speech impediment. Knowledgeable about his subject, but unable to convey what he wanted, he set reading for the majority of the class and a homework essay to summarise what they had learned.

Pondering on the oddity of setting the length of an essay by measurement, instead of word count, was rather an odd way of doing things. Especially as line spacing's weren't set at a standard distance, Harry made his way to the library followed by the rest of the Ravenclaw first years. Luckily aside from a few raised eyebrows none of the teachers had said anything about Harry's choice of stationary. He couldn't have been the only muggle raised student who realised the benefits of using paper and pen, but he did seem to be the only one who decided to use them. Though from a few penetrating looks from a struggling Hermione he didn't think he would be the only one soon.

After introducing themselves to the librarian Ms Pince, they wandered around each drifting to their favourite sections. Knowing that learning DADA by reading one text book and whatever he could make out from Quirrell was the easy way out, Harry headed over to the DADA section.

o0O0o

"One is to three, as three is to five, and five is to four. What is the magic number?"

Harry cocked his head to the side. It had been a long day he wanted to get a start on the homework before the house meeting.

"Maybe we'll have to wait for another student." Neville said slightly downhearted. No matter his success during the day, it seemed Harry would have to work a little harder to keep Neville's self esteem high.

"I don't know. There are many magical numbers that have prominence in the Wizarding world. Three and seven are two… but this seems more of a riddle than simple magical knowledge."

"That's it. Can up repeat the question again please?" Harry asked unsure if that was allowed. The eagle gave what could be considered a grin and did so.

"Three, one…five, four. Hmm…the magical number is four."

Hermione turned to Harry. "Harry four has no real magical significance."

"Er Hermione." Harry gestured to the opening door behind her.

"Oh."

"Like you said, it was just a riddle. Though I think that the word 'magical' was used specifically as misdirection." Harry said, as he stepped through the door.

Hermione glared as the bronze eagle did its best to shrug before becoming immobile once more.

o0O0o

**AN: So moving ahead a little by little. Explanation to the riddles will be posted in the next chapter if anyone wants to know. And with regards to Hermione's morning rant. I have personally had experience of those types of girls. Sometimes the more intelligence someone has, the less common sense I think.**


	9. Chapter 9

**An: Thank you for your patience. I am now a few chapters ahead and hope to stay that way. I have updated the previous chapters for any mistakes in spelling and grammar with help from you wonderful readers and your reviews. I have also made minor changes while polishing up it to make it a better read, now that I have had time to go back over it. Thank you again, I hope you enjoy. **

o0O0o

"So we have to practise the levitation charm, write a foot long essay on the different aspects needed for healthy plant growth, and a summarisation essay about the difference between hexes, jinxes and curses. I suggest we start on the defence essay first, as that will probably be the quickest and easiest. If we reread the text book and jot down the key points for the defence essay first, before dinner, so it will be out of the way, and we can concentrate on the other two after the house meeting." Hermione said.

The other two nodded and making their way to an empty table by the fire they settled down and started to work. Soon joined by the other first years, the common room became silent except for the occasional soft spoken request or query.

At 1745 Harry looked at his watch and after getting the attention of the others at the table, informed them it was time for dinner. Mingling together, the first year Ravenclaws made their way down the staircases to the Great Hall arriving just as the food appeared on the tables. Sitting together near the middle of the table they greeted a group of second years that were already seated.

Helping himself to some shepherd's pie and a large portion of assorted vegetables – he still hadn't gotten over how he could have as much or as little of each food as he wanted. Terry and Anthony had started up a conversation on Quidditch, quickly joined by the second years seated next to them. Harry listened in, trying to learn as much as he could. There was only so much he could learn from books. The sport of Quidditch was very popular in the magical world, on par with the muggle fascination with football.

The mechanics of the game were easy to learn, but the current conversation was focusing on the putting together of the new Ravenclaw team. Over half the players had graduated the last term and it seemed as if it was the opinion of most of the house that Jeremy Stretton, the remaining chaser and now captain, had a lot of work to do if this year wasn't just going to be a makeup year.

Thinking it through, and applying what little he knew of football Harry asked why the reserves couldn't take the positions. A quiet descended on the conversation and everyone looked to him. Some of the older students down the table even seemed to stop eating, curious at the sudden silence.

"What? Are you not allowed a reserve team like the professional teams? Or have they all graduated too?"

"Why would you have a reserve team? There aren't that many good players in the upper years to make up another team and they would very rarely get to play, injuries are rarely serious enough to stop someone from playing."

"Well, what about the younger students who have some talent? You could train them, just in case a player can't play and they can take part in the majority of the practises so you have someone for the main team to play against. That way they are already trained and have some experience when the main player graduates."

"Where did you think of that?" A voice behind him said.

Terry who was sitting next to Harry moved up a little to allow the newcomer to have a seat.

"Jeremy Stretton. I'm the Quidditch Captain." He held out his hand for Harry to shake, which he did.

"Harry Potter. I just thought it was a good idea, the football clubs have reserve players for each position and they play when the main player is injured or tired. Most of the time they are the less experienced players, who get time on the field." At the blank look on Jeremy's face Harry decided to elaborate. "It's a muggle sport. One ball and two goals, one at either end of the pitch. It doesn't really matter about the details but I thought you could use the organisational setup for the team. And it helps if you aren't too sure about who to pick for a position during tryouts."

Everybody was listening now and Harry felt a little nervous. He didn't want to seem as if he was telling them how to do things, he was the newcomer after all. Taking a sip of a drink he looked around. More students had joined them but they seemed to be mostly interested, especially about the last point.

"Well in Quidditch you have three chasers but what happens when in tryout there are four who are really good? How do you choose? Well you pick three, say they most experience or those that work best together, and the fourth is put on the reserve team. Performance during the practises and such, means that you can interchange them, especially if you know you need a particular combination for whichever team strategies you are going to use. That and you can involve more students and not just seven from the entire house."

Jeremy was nodding. "I'll have to ask Madam Hooch and Professor Flitwick. But I don't see why not." This sparked ripples of conversation down the tables, everyone discussing if they would try out, and what they thought of the idea. From what he could hear they liked the idea. Conversation over, everyone returned to eating.

o0O0o

"And how are your new Lions doing Minerva?"

"Well, thank you Filius. A few late students who got lost, but nothing major. And your Ravens?"

"Very well so far. I had my first class with them today and they didn't disappoint. I think we have a good bunch. All were well prepared and were able to levitate the feather. Some more successful than others. I have my meeting with them after dinner."

"Any that I should look out for?"

"Well Miss Granger is very bright. Further ahead than most, which is surprising since she is muggle born. And then there is Mr Potter."

No need to be subtle. He and Minerva were good friends and never really cared about the houses when it came to the students, but he knew she had been disappointed when the hat had announced Ravenclaw. It was friendly one-upmanship. What he didn't expect was the response from the rest of the table, who had been obviously listening in.

"Really Filius?" Headmaster Dumbledore inquired. "How so?"

"Well like Miss Granger he seemed more prepared than the rest of the class, which rather struck me as, though he not down as muggle born he might as well be. He knew nothing about the magical world when I took him to Diagon Alley. He was very inquisitive and asked lots of questions. I was looking forward to teaching him, but even so, he still surprised me."

He paused and slowly took a bite to eat form his dinner making them wait. "He levitated his text book."

The expressions of shock that rippled down the table were very gratifying. The power needed to levitate something as heavy and cumbersome as a book was easily third year level. It didn't make logical sense, but he took pride in his students' accomplishments, even if it wasn't due to his direct influence. Or any influence at all in this case. Before anyone could interrupt he dropped the next bombshell.

"But that wasn't what was shocking. He had two very powerful parents, and after what happened when he was a baby, I expected him to be powerful, but he also has control that I have never seen. You see… he did it without saying the incantation... and he was able to repeat it."

Silence settled on the table as they turned to see the young boy eating dinner. After many years Filius Flitwick had learned a sense of timing. He had been watching his students as they had entered the Hall. Surprisingly all together, mixing with each other and not separated into groups as the first years usually did. He had observed as they introduced themselves to the students around them and joined in the conversation with ease.

It seemed that this years new Ravenclaws were settling in faster than usual, and it didn't escape his notice how they seemed to gravitate around the messy dark haired boy. His revelation was timed exactly, for when the other members of the faculty had turned to observe him, Harry was at that point talking to a mixed crowd of students. His eyes glowing with energy, he seemed to be offering his opinion to those around him, gesticulating to make a point. That in itself was not unusual, though for a first year rather rare. What was unusual were the reactions of the other students around him. Nodding in agreement and asking his opinion, they all seemed to be charmed by the small boy.

Filius had taught James Potter and it seemed as if his son had inherited the charisma and aura of the father, though it took Potter senior years to achieve the performance his son was showing. He was glad that Potter Junior seemed to have missed inheriting the slight arrogance that his father sometimes displayed.

o0O0o

Once everyone had had their fill, the first years made their way back to the common room. Accompanied by Penny they found seats in the comfortable lounge chairs arranged around the largest fire. Professor Flitwick had arrived just after them and was levitating a box which contents he asked Penny to hand out.

"You should all have a small booklet and a quill." The professor settled himself in the remaining chair and waited until everyone had said items.

The booklet was a bound collection of parchments entitled _Ravenclaws guide to Hogwarts_ and decorated with the house shield and blue and silver ink whirls. The quill was a small luxurious peacock tail feather with gold nib. Mainly blue green along the stem it branched out into the iridescent eye. Engraved on the base of the nib was the Ravenclaw crest.

"The Ravenclaw booklet has many of the rules with which Ravenclaw students are expected to abide by. I'm assuming you have all read the Hogwarts rule book, if you haven't I expect you to do so by tomorrow. The booklet has a pull out map which details the main parts of the castle to help you find your way to your classes. Keep it safe, as in future years you'll need it, as the rooms used can change. You can all read the rules later and if you have any questions you can ask one of the prefects or come and see me. I just want to go over a few of the main ones."

"A side room properly warded is available for practising the practical side of magic. This is to be used with supervision of fourth years or over when in your first and second years. This is for quicker and safer learning. If anything goes wrong they could correct it or get help. They can also give help and assistance to the younger students. This should not be considered a duty that the older students must do, as it helps them revise the spells and theory from the early years and helps the OWL and NEWT level students by reviewing such material. There is a rota of available students on the notice board so that it is spread out among the students. Most will just sit and do work while you practise unless you need or ask for help."

"Next is the issue of grades. Ravenclaw is known for their academic prowess. This doesn't mean I expect you to be at the top of each class and get straight Os. I know that some of you will struggle with some subjects. The Ravenclaw mentality is to work and keep on studying. If you try your best and work on a subject and still get an A than I could not ask for anything more. I do have some expectations. One of which is that you will not fail any subject. That means that you should not get less than an A in any marked piece of works. Any piece of work that is marked as less than an A will be redone and submitted within a week. If this happens more than three times in a term for a single subject, or more than five times in a term overall, we will have a talk and see if we can figure out a problem and if you need extra help or mandatory study sessions etc. If you are having difficulty keeping up, or understanding the subject we will try and help in any way that is possible."

"Your expected grade average is to be an E for your first two years. Then it will be O/E for your third and fourth year. For your fifth year your OWL year you should have an average O grade and keep that until you graduate."

"To help with your studying Ravenclaw has a policy of giving each new student a helping hand. This includes the quill that you have all been given. There are a few spells that will aid you in your studying. These include copying, dictation and protection charms. Also in the booklets you have been given it lays out the expected layout for all essays and assignments. It includes how to properly reference your materials and avoid plagiarism and collusion. Helping each other out by checking for factual errors and spelling mistakes is allowed and encouraged as it will help you all learn faster and avoid silly mistakes. What is not allowed is people doing the work for you or using other people's ideas. Each individual teacher has their own mark scheme which is individual to them. I suggest you look over it as it will help you achieve better marks."

After answering some of the students questions Flitwick ended the formal part of the meeting and with the help of the prefects, started teaching the first years the charms they needed to know. The copying charm worked by highlighting the area you wished to copy with your wand tip. This illuminated the area with a blue shimmering light. The incantation of _effingo_ copied the material onto the blank parchment. The copied information could be seen if you waved your wand over the text, the borders of the copied material fluoresced and the reference appeared superimposed on the material.

A quick referencing charm, for when copying was not done but a source used, was also explained.

Protection charms were explained as a must in case another student tried to copy from a piece of work. It also offered physical protection against damage and alterations. The spell can only be altered by the student who cast the spell. Teachers could mark on the work but not alter it.

The final spell discussed was the dictating spell. A complex piece of magic that most fourth years would be unable to manage due to the intent and control needed to maintain the spell and copy what was wanted. Flitwick explained that this was why the first years have been giving the quills. They would record a complete transcript of the teacher's words during class. The ability to dictate long essays was also a beneficial application.

"When using the quill the parchment, or paper (with a nod to harry), should be laid flat on a stable surface, and then think about what you want it to copy. In class you can concentrate on the teacher. The quill has a lot of innate magic and will even copy any questions and answers from students that you think is applicable. This means that you still need to pay attention in class, but allow you to focus on what is being said rather than having to try and write down everything and ultimately miss something. To do this we will have to bond you to your quill. This makes it unique to each one of you. As such your work is still recognisable as yours."

"Any questions?"

Harry asked about the laundry and how his trunk protection was avoided. The answer was pleasing, house elves and their special brand of magic.

"Any laundry is to be placed in the laundry bag next to your dormitory door. All laundry will be returned within twenty four hours and will be left on your bed. House elves also clean the rooms and tidy up, but all students must keep their own space and personal things tidy."

After a few more questions and answers, and once everyone had been successfully bonded to their quill Flitwick left them to work on their assignments. Harry along with Hermione and Neville approached Penny and asked her to observe while they practised the levitation spell in the practise room. After seeing the interest on the other first year's faces they invited everyone along.

Following Penny through the door that they hadn't yet noticed they found themselves in a large round chamber. The walls, floor and ceiling were made from the same bare stone. Understandable as they were decorated with black scorch marks here and there. Spell damage Harry thought. A fire place heated the room, providing additional light to that provided by the sconces on the wall. To one side was two comfortable chairs arranged around a small table angled so that the whole room could be seen.

Penny headed towards the chairs, placing some of her books on the table she turned and asked whether they needed any assistance. On receiving the answer that they were just practising what they had been taught in class she pointed to one of the trunks situated against the wall where the feathers and pillows were kept and settled herself back in her chair. A long potions essay awaited her and she was rather hopping the firsties wouldn't be that much of a bother tonight.

o0O0o

When they had all retrieved a feather and a pillow they spread themselves out and began to practise. All of the students had successfully levitated a feather, some more controlled than others. Those who had completed it started on the pillow as a slightly heavier and more cumbersome object to manipulate. Harry and Hermione went to one side and sat down on their pillows with their feathers in front of them. Hermione had been badgering Harry since lunch about how he had performed the incantation without speaking and in order to get some peace he had agreed to practise with her that night.

"I didn't mean to do it. I was practising the movement and visualising the result. You've read the chapters about non verbal casting in _The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 6) _and_ Magical Theory (Grade 6)._" A rather frantic nod answered him.

"The first thing you need to do is calm yourself, trying to force it won't help." Hermione settled down a bit and he continued.

"First cast the spell normally and focus on the way it moves. I was remembering what the feather looked like when Professor Flitwick demonstrated the spell when I did it, which was why the book was floating sideways back and forth, I was imagining a feather floating in the breeze."

Hermione did so and then following the advice they had found in the sixth year books, slowly reduced the volume of the incantation until she was performing the spell with a barely heard whisper. There however she became stuck. In the interim others had joined them much to the interest of Penny. A few of them had been able to reduce their voice level when casting and had decided to continue the practise when learning new spells. After an hour they said their thanks to Penny and moved back to the common room to continue the Herbology essay and allow others to use the room. The first years settled down at the same table they had been at before under the watchful gaze of the prefect.

o0O0o

**AN: Thanks to all those who reviewed. Below is the answer to the riddle from chapter 8. The map idea is something I would expect the houses to do and is probably a precursor to the Marauders map. The Ravenclaw booklet and quill seemed a sensible idea to add. With regards to levitating and controlling a book as something special when Ron levitated a troll club, I see that as an adrenaline fuelled act that was lifting it slightly and then letting it go. The magic and control to negate gravity for something as heavy and cumbersome as a text book would be remarkable. The copying and other charms are things that I wish very much that I had access to with my work in uni and as anything is possible with magic I decided to live vicariously. **

"One is to three as three is to five and five is to four and four is the magic number. What is the pattern?"

_One has three letters in the word, three has five letters in it, five has four letters and four has four letters in it (if you try more numbers they will always come back to the number four: so four is the magic number)_


	10. Chapter 10

**An: I have taken some liberty with the timetable and class schedules, as well as when certain topics were taught for the sake of the story line. Some of the potions knowledge I also made up, any glaring errors please let me know. This chapter includes Snape for the first time, he may be OOC but this is how the character is speaking to me in my head. Hope you like**

o0O0o

Over the next few days Harry and his friends had settled into a routine that seemed to suit everyone. Due to the light schedule they had as first years, they were finished by 1600 everyday. Harry, Hermione and Neville all wanted to spend time in the library researching their homework early before many of the older students swamped the books. They could always access the books in the Ravenclaw library in the evening. Joined the first day by the other Ravenclaws it started a tradition, followed at first because it was something to do, it was soon discovered that many hands make light work. There was always someone who knew the subject best who could help the others if they were having problems. Neville for example, was discovered to be a genius at Herbology, even helping some of the older years on occasion. Since they all had the same assignments searching the books took very little time and doing this allowed for more time that could be devoted to writing the actual assignment.

By doing most of the research and writing before dinner, it left the hour afterwards for practical work. After three days this time was already becoming known as 'firsties practise' among the older years. Pleased that the new Ravenclaws were so enthusiastic and had chosen a time convenient for everyone, many started dropping by or helping some students one on one. What had started as helping the first years, quickly became a revision session for those helping. By reviewing the material in this way, they were reminding themselves of the material they had studied so long ago, thought they knew, and then realised how much they had actually forgotten.

o0O0o

On Thursday morning the first years were sleepy and slow to start. The night before they had had their first astronomy practical at midnight. Wrapped up warm they were instructed in the use of their telescope to find particular stars and were shown where the constellations they had memorised for homework lived in the nights sky. They shared the class with the Gryffindors, the only class they were together, apart from History which had all four houses.

An excitable bunch, though somewhat subdued due to the time, they seemed pretty friendly though rather scattered and didn't apply themselves as the Ravenclaws did. It was rather obvious that a few of them hadn't prepared or even attempted their homework, a capital offense in the Ravenclaws mind. As astronomy was rather an individual class it didn't bother Harry as much as it would have, though he could see Hermione's displeasure at being placed next to the red headed boy who Harry remembered from the train station and before the sorting ceremony. Ron Weasley if Harry remember correctly, and he was not very subtlety trying to copy her work. A calming hand on her arm from Harry, and the moving of her worksheets to the other side of her telescope prevented anything said, with only her pursed lips and small frown showing her thoughts on the matter.

Neville had never had much interaction with other children of his own age. From what Harry could tell his Grandmother was rather overprotective if not a little cloying. Harry and Hermione on the other hand had had many varied experiences with their peers, very few of them positive. Both had made a vow individually, and together, that Hogwarts were going to be different. As a start both were going out of their way to make friends and avoid disagreements, pointing out that the Gryffindor was unprepared for class and now cheating would probably not go down well with the others. Neither knew the longstanding effects of this decision.

Because of the late night and a luckily late first class on the following morning, most of the Ravenclaws slept in until Charms at midday. Harry however was still unused to regular meal times and late mornings sleeping in. He did however make a concession for Neville, and so the three of them went down for 0850 for the last part of breakfast followed by a leisurely morning reading ahead for their first potions lesson that afternoon, all other work done they didn't have much else to do.

Harry had been looking forward to all of his classes but most especially Potions. He had always been interested in the sciences and Potions seemed the closest he would get at Hogwarts. Another thing in its favour was that it closely resembled cooking, one of Harry's favourite chores at the Dursleys as they always left him alone, because god forbid Dudley had to wait for food.

Harry shook his head to get the images out of his head. He was away from there, for good, if he had any say in it at all, and he didn't need to dwell on bad thoughts when he needed to concentrate. Harry pulled _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi _and _Magical Drafts and Potions _towards him. He wanted to check that he had at remembered the boil cure potion that the older Ravenclaws had said that Snape liked to start the new first years on. Perhaps they could quiz each other at lunch, test each other's knowledge. For some reason he really wanted to make a good impression.

o0O0o

Potions Master Professor Severus Snape was Head of Slytherin House, Potions Professor of Hogwarts School and Witchcraft and Wizardry, and bane to all Gryffindors. Especially those with the last name Potter, except ... Potter wasn't a Gryffindor. And now all his prejudices and all his preconceptions of the messy haired brat that had entered the Great Hall, were trying to settle on a Ravenclaw.

Even so, after inheriting his sire's looks to the point they could be clones, there was no way that this Potter would be anything but brash, loud and disrespectful to figures of authority. Bullying disguised in the form of high jinks and attention seeking behaviour. And yet, after a few days of determined observation on his part (he was determined to have proof this time), he found a quiet, hard working, respectful student. Friendly with everyone, no reports of fights, arguments or even slight disagreements Potter seemed determined to prove him wrong.

As a last ditch effort Severus tried to find fault in Potter by his house. The Sorting Hat obviously had no choice to put him in Ravenclaw. A disloyal coward with no cunning, subtlety or ambition. He would probably rest on his laurels and scrape through his classes, everyone making excuse for boy wonder. Much to his consternation, all reports so far had been of a diligent student, ahead in his studies, ready to answer questions (correctly), and thoroughly researched and thought out homework. It was only the first week, but with years of experience of teaching he knew that this wasn't a one off. The boy spent his free time in the library and even made sure to add lots of vegetables to his meals, and had fruit for dessert most days, if only his Slytherins were so well behaved.

Like his father, Harry Potter seemed destined to annoy the hell out of Snape. What was he to do when the boy failed to meet any expectation of the spoilt, misbehaving Boy-Who-Lived and instead seemed to embody the role of the perfect student. Perhaps some god would find it fit that he would be awful at potions, anything so that he wasn't as perfect as he seemed to be.

o0O0o

Potions classes were taken down in the dungeons. The first year Ravenclaws had been joined by those in Hufflepuff on exiting the Great Hall after lunch. The Puffs had soon deduced that they much more likely to get to class on time and without getting lost, by following the blue trimmed students. As they made their way down the stairs to the right floor the walls became sparse of paintings and more filled with heavy tapestries, probably to try and combat the cold, as ineffective as it was. Harry pulled his robes closer to him and was thankful for the charms that were keeping him somewhat warm, some of his peers didn't seem so lucky.

The door to the potions classroom was open and taking the lead, Harry, after poking his head in and determining that with no teacher and the door open they should enter, headed to one of the benches at the front of the class that was positioned for easy observation of the blackboard. Setting his cauldron, ingredients kit and books on the table he dug into his bag for his folder, pens and a fresh pad of lined paper. Professors Snape's temper was legendary and Harry was unsure if he should be pushing his luck. However none of the other Professors had said anything and Professor McGonagall had even complemented him on how organised and contained the process was, no more piles of rolled up parchment spilling everywhere.

A sharp bang and the door slammed shut. Harry looked up as the Professor stalked to the front of the classroom. He had shoulder length somewhat greasy black hair, a hooked nose and sharp intense looking black eyes that surveyed the class as if he found them lacking. Harry couldn't be sure but he thought those eyes skipped him rather more quickly.

After a moment of silence he began speaking in a strong but quiet voice. Like Professor McGonagall and Flitwick he seemed to just need to speak to hold the class' attention, no one dared to speak, or move.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art that is potion making," he began. "As there is little wand use here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will _really_ understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses… I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death — if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

More silence followed this little speech. Harry quickly glanced at Neville who sat to one side of him and saw a determined look appear on his face. Hermione seated next to Su Li at the next table, seemed quivering with energy, almost bursting to get started.

"Longbottom," said Snape suddenly, "what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

"They are two different parts of the same plant sir, also known as aconite." Seeing the pleased look on Snape's face he continued with more confidence. "Though generally all three names are used, in potions wolfsbane is the dried leaves of the plant where as monkshood are the roots."

"Correct." A nod, and after surveying the room he settled on the table next to Harry. "Granger, what can you tell me about bezoars?"

"Found in the stomach of magical breeds of goats, they are a stone roughly the size of walnuts they can cure a person from most poisons if ingested. When added in potions its magical properties allow it to neutralise some volatile ingredients."

Hermione said this in a breathless voice, the words spilling out. At least she had waited to be called upon. He knew her impatience when others took their time in answering what seemed to her simple questions. The Professor smirked but instead of a nasty comment that Harry had been expecting, he turned to one of the Hufflepuffs.

"Bones, what would result from an infusion of asphodel and wormwood?"

There was a tense pause and Harry hoped she knew. The lesson was going much better than Harry had expected from the rumours that he had heard. Apparently the Hufflepuffs had also heard the same stories and decided to come prepared.

"Asphodel and wormwood are most commonly used in sleeping draughts. So ... an infusion ... would make it more powerful. Draught of Living Death?"

It was more of a question than an answer but Snape seemed satisfied. Another nod and his gaze settled on a table at the back of the classroom which caused some shifting in seats. A quick glance at the roll call and "Finch-Fletchley, name three ingredients of the boil cure potion."

Another pause and then Justin's voice floated forward. "Nettles - pre-dried, snake fangs and ... horned slugs." Quite a few people let out a breath of relief.

"Potter." Suddenly tense, Harry locked eyes with the potions master. Praying that he was asked something he had studied. "At what point is the Boil Cure potion most volatile?" Green stared into bottomless black. Without knowing he did, Harry answered.

"At the cooling stage sir. The potion must be removed from the heat and allowed to cool after the second set of ten stirs counter clockwise. This is to ensure no reaction between the heated mixture and the acid nature of the porcupine quills." A period of silence ensued. Black eyes bored into green. The moment was broken when Snape looked away and addressed the rest of the class.

"I'm glad that you seem to have prepared well enough. Today as you probably already guessed, you will be brewing the Boil Cure potion in pairs. Your homework, if successful, will be a ten inch essay on said potion, its development, uses and limitations. If you are not successful it will include another ten inches on the proper procedure and where you went wrong." A glare was sent around the class telling them of how unimpressed he would be if they made him mark more work.

"The instructions are on the board," a wave of his wand and the instructions were replicated from the text book in a neat cursive script. "_Ask_," he almost growled, "if you are unsure on the proper method of preparing ingredients or stirring. Begin."

Rustling and murmured conversation followed. Harry set up his cauldron and opened his text book at the correct page while Neville organised the ingredients needed. They divided the ingredients between them and for five minutes they were busy with chopping, crushing and stewing. Once the water base was at the correct temperature Harry added the first ingredients and started the stirring while Neville continued the prep work.

At this point the professor started wandering amongst the tables, seemingly gliding through the billowing steam produced from the numerous cauldrons. A quiet comment here and a nod there was the extent of his involvement in the process, even so, Harry noted Neville's hands start to shake as he moved in their direction.

"Neville," he murmured, "remind me. What are the properties of dried nettles compared with fresh ones?" Neville looked at him strangely. Harry couldn't blame him, it was one of the questions that he had answered during the impromptu potions quiz they had at lunch. Harry continued to look enquiringly at Neville whilst still keeping an eye on the potion. Soon it would be time to add the snake fangs.

"Well... potency is the main difference...um" Harry nodded encouragingly. "If you grow the plant with the intention of drying them then there are a few things you can do to increase it as well..." Harry kept listening to Neville as he continued speaking, expanding on a subject he was most passionate and knowledgeable in. He added the snake fangs one by one and then took up stirring again. It was all information he knew, and that they had discussed before, but the most important point was, Neville's hands were now steady as he expertly prepared the porcupine quills.

Towards the end of the lesson when Harry's and Neville's potion was bubbling quietly away under a low heat waiting to be bottled, Snape finally made his way to their table. Peering over the cauldron edge he assessed the colour and consistency before giving a nod to the two anxious Ravenclaws and placing two sample bottles left without a word. Carefully bottling and labelling their potion Harry took the samples up to the teacher's desk while Neville finished clearing up.

Returning to his desk Harry mused on the behaviour of the most feared teacher in the school. Strict, harsh and demanding was rather expected when dealing with easily distracted teenagers and dangerous ingredients. But the lesson had been informative and passed smoothly, Professor Snape had even condescended to correct the technique of some of the students which otherwise would have made their potion useless. Maybe he didn't want to mark the extra essays? Maybe the other students had been overstating some of the stories?

Harry for some reason didn't think so. It was probably his imagination, but since the question at the start of the lesson, and aside from an eyebrow quirk at his stationary, Snape went out of his way to avoid any contact with him.

o0O0o

Severus Snape was sitting in his quarters getting drunk. Slowly and methodically getting wasted. It seemed as if he would have to completely make things up if he wanted to think bad things about the Potter brat. Well not brat...boy. First year classes could be fun, if a little repetitive. If he had a potions talent or two it was enjoyable to nurture a fellow potions prodigy. When the Headmaster insisted on Gryffindor/Slytherin classes this year he had resigned himself to the torture of the next five years.

The outright hostility of one class with sabotage and fights was only slightly more horrendous than to the overbearing know it all nature of the Ravenclaws climbing all over the quiet nature of the Hufflepuffs who then bandied together and made just enough effort to pass without standing out. There was no chance to really teach, it was more about damage limitation and crowd control than imparting knowledge. And even if he could, it was no environment for the students to take anything in.

And yet, Potter struck again. The Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws arrived together and settled down quickly. Snape watched covertly as the brat ... _Potter _entered first, the others following him in. And again, they followed his lead when he settled down and started arranging his things on the desk. He had always found such observations before class to be useful in predicting how a class would go. The temperament and state of preparation of the class varied and Snape was wondering how this class would proceed, while dreading tomorrows first years even more.

Shock after shock. That the Ravenclaws could answer his questions was not that surprising. That they could do so without falling over each other to show off was unusual. His formidable reputation made sure that the Hufflepuffs had at least read up on the basic knowledge. But it was Potter who surprised him. Such an in-depth answer was unexpected, he had obviously read ahead and in far more detail than necessary. Familiar green eyes were locked with his and he had to pull himself away before the pause became noticeable.

Snape knew the effect his presence alone could have on students. Observing the Longbottom boy shaking while trying to trim the porcupine quills he resigned himself to clearing up a spilt/exploded potion in a few minutes. Luckily by their position he would only have to shield the front row. Getting into position he froze when he heard Potter confess not knowing something. One thing Snape had really hated about Potter Senior was his inability to admit he was wrong, or that he didn't know something, especially when someone else did. But it didn't make sense. If this Potter knew about the relative acid reactions between different ingredients then surely he would know something as relatively simple as the different properties of dried ingredients.

But Potter didn't seem to be paying that much attention to what was a rather knowledgeable response from his partner. Potter instead seemed more focused on the potion he was stirring with side long glances at the quills Longbottom was preparing. No not the quills but the hands preparing them. Snape focused on the boys hands and realised that even with his position hovering behind them, Longbottom's hands were now steady and precise.

He was floored. Potter was obviously friends with the Longbottom boy. But to notice his nervousness, and do something about it in such an intelligent way by bringing out the boys plant knowledge, all without fanfare, was almost Slytherin in its execution. Even Longbottom didn't seem to notice.

And at the end of the class nothing had exploded, over boiled or even ruined. Some of the potions were off colour to the point that he wanted to add an acerbic comment on the student's ability to count, but the lesson had gone surprisingly well. He had to intervene when a few of the students started chopping instead of slicing, but he only had to demonstrate the proper method once before all of the class adopted it. It was one of the most pleasant classes he had taught for a while. Even better, he could afford the indulgence of a bottle of fire whiskey because none of them would be handing in the extra essay so he was caught up on his marking.

There was nothing for it. Potter was obviously determined to make his life _easy_. For some reason that didn't annoy him as much as he expected it to.

o0O0o

After potions the Ravenclaws headed to the library as was their tradition born from all of three days. Settling down at their table they quickly made room for the Hufflepuffs who had followed them in.

"Potions first?" Harry asked. There were nods of agreement from the others and text books were brought out, space arranged while Su Li and Hermione went to fetch a few helpful reference books. Harry could see that the Hufflepuffs were slightly bewildered at this almost regimented response.

"We've found that if we work together things get done quicker. You're welcome to join us. We'll do Potions first so that we can hand it in tomorrow and get it done and finished. The research for Charms will take a bit longer and is more individual so we can do that afterwards along with any other work still unfinished."

Once everyone had settled and was working steadily, Megan Jones shyly asked for help from Neville about their Herbology homework. Soon other questions were asked. It was found that Susan Bones was far ahead at Defence Against the Dark Arts, to which she shrugged her shoulders and blamed it on her Aunt's job. Hermione and Padma were the Transfiguration gurus whilst Harry was nominated as the Charms genius.

By the time dinner rolled around they had an informal homework and study session arranged for the two hours prior to dinner on the weekdays and another on Saturday afternoons. With the addition of Neville's expertise in Herbology, and History, Potions and Astronomy covered by all of them they were on their way to a comprehensive study scheme.

o0O0o

Dinner came and went and Harry was excited to get back to the common room. They had quickly demonstrated to Professor Flitwick that all of them had mastered the Levitation Charm, with help from the practical practise sessions after dinner. So the Professor had moved them on to the unlocking charm Alohomora, only a few of the students had been able to successfully unlock a locked box that the Professor had provided them with. Harry had been one of them.

He was excited because he wanted to see if he could cast the spell wordlessly. Over the past week Harry had practised every spell they were taught until he was able to do so without saying the incantation. Transfiguration was harder than charms which were in turn harder than the jinxs and hexes they had learnt about in Defence.

Many of his peers had also tried but the closest they had achieved was Hermione who was able to cast when sub vocalising the spell. Ravenclaws were not known to be quitters and even though quite a few of the older students were cynical they continued the practise. They agreed with Harry that it made no sense whatsoever to wait until they were sixth years to start, it would only make it harder as they would be so used to saying the words out loud that it would be hard to adjust.

The fire was already lit when Harry entered the practise room. Jeremy Stretton was already there reading from the daily paper when he and the rest of the first years entered. Jeremy quickly folded the paper and jumped up rubbing his hands and looked excited to begin.

"So what'll it be today?"

"The unlocking charm." Hermione answered.

"Would you be able to show us the tripping and dancing jinx?" Harry asked before the lesson got started.

"Why do you want to know?" Jeremy asked somewhat suspiciously.

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Quirrel mentioned them, he's mentioned quite a few of them, but never demonstrates them in class. In fact I don't think I've seen him cast a single spell." Jeremy nodded.

"It's the same with our lessons. And with the stutter the material is hard to listen to, let alone understand."

"Textbook," was the only answer given alongside a shrug.

"So _Alohomora_, then we can move onto some of the other spells. Now since nothing will be moving you can all find a space to sit down - grab a few of the cushions from that trunk to sit on. Right so here are some of the boxes to practise on, I'm guessing you all know the incantation and wand movements. The main problem with this spell is in the visualisation. Unlike the levitation spell where you can easily 'see' the object rising in front of you, the mechanism inside the lock cannot be seen, so unlocking it is hard to imagine. The way I learnt, is to take a lock apart and watch the mechanism work to understand how it works in the first place."

Jeremy went on to show the mechanism and then to coach those who were still having difficulty. Harry listened to the first part, it was always useful to know different techniques to approach a spell. When they moved onto the practical practise Harry took a box and sat to the side intent upon wordlessly unlocking the box, something that had eluded him during class. Focusing on what he knew and had observed about locking mechanisms, Harry formed a picture in his mind of unlocking the box.

Harry cast the spell and heard a slight click but the box remained locked. Trying once more, Harry did the same again, but this time wrote the incantation in his mindscape. Feeling the rush of magic Harry opened his eyes to see the lid of the box had popped open. Grinning he looked around to find Hermione looking at him with a frustrated but amused expression on her face, her locked box sitting in front of her. Settling back down he practised repeatedly until it became as easy as the spoken spell.

Learning with Jeremy was fun, and the introduction of the new defence spells was an unexpected bonus. He made the hard work easy and introduced the theory with the practical in a way that made it easy to remember. It was simple to see why he was chosen as the Quidditch captain.

After an hour and a half, other students started coming into the practise room so the first years left to continue their charms research. They never knew the conversation they left behind or the surprise they would find awaiting them tomorrow.

o0O0o

**An: With regards to Harry's spell casting ability, I don't want to have him hide his ability. I think he would want to enjoy being good at something and not having to hide anymore. His wordless casting will be known as he tries it in class and the practise sessions, and it won't be so noteworthy when the other students start emulating him – it never made sense to me that they waited until sixth year after five years of triggering the spell by voice it would be immensely difficult to relearn spell casting without it. (Perhaps it is the same as depending on the use of a wand – a crutch to limit the power of the magical populace and allow them to be disarmed.) His wandless ability will be kept secret from most people but more of that in later chapters.**


End file.
